When I Wake
by bowmaiden
Summary: "I fell asleep drunk with my two best friends at the beginning of The Two Towers and now I'm here with my favorite characters, stuck in my favorite movie series. So what the hell am I supposed to do now? I would tell myself that this is a dream, but I know it's not. It just doesn't feel like it is. And yet, I want someone to pinch me awake." Part 1 of the Sleeping Series
1. Rachel: Three Cool Characters

You know how in movies there's that cliché where something outrageous happens and a character says "Pinch me, I'm dreaming"? But when you dream on your own nothing is ever real enough to warrant a pinch.

Today was different. Today I needed a pinch to wake me up from this dream. It couldn't possibly be real…And yet, it was.

I should backtrack. My best friend Kristen had never seen _Lord of the Rings_. Never. Which is a travesty for someone like me and my other best friend Claire, who worship the Tolkien World. We had just finished our last exams of the semester and we needed a celebration. A celebration that included Bacardi and a trilogy marathon.

But the problem is, Bacardi makes me really sleepy. And by the end of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ , I was totally zonked. Just as Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas came over that hill chasing the Orc party with Merry and Pippin in tow…

I woke up. And not pleasantly. That rum really did a number on me. Someone was shaking me awake and my head felt like it was splitting in half. "What the hell?" I muttered, rolling away from the shaking hands and clutching my temples in frustration.

"Lady of Rohan, we do not mean to disturb you," an English accent said. An English accent that was incredibly familiar.

I opened my eyes ignoring the sting of the bright sun and right in front of my face was…

Orlando Bloom.

Nope. No, it couldn't be. Damn Bacardi. I closed my eyes again, pulling my jacket up over my eyes.

"She wears such strange clothes," another voice said.

"Perhaps she is a rider. Trousers are more efficient than a dress."

"If she's a rider, then where is her horse?"

I pulled down the jacket, looking at the other voices and standing above me were Aragorn and Gimli. I sat up, utterly confused. "What the hell?" I asked again.

"You have a wound on you head," Legolas said, reaching out to me. I recoiled. He may be the heart-throb of my generation, but I wasn't going to let a fictional character examine my skull.

"Legolas is a good healer," Aragorn said, bending down to my level. "How did you get hurt?"

I looked between the three of them. "I don't know," I answered. "How did I get here?"

"We found you laying on the ground, lass," Gimli said. "You had that nasty cut on your eye."

I reached up to my forehead and felt a sharp sting. "Agh!"

Legolas had pulled some kind of salve from his pocket. "Please," he said. "It will help with the pain."

Reluctantly I nodded and let him apply it to my head. Instantly the pain was gone. I guess the headache was from the cut, not the rum.

"Perhaps you can help us," Aragorn said. "We track a party or Orcs headed westward from here. They carry two Hobbits with them, our companions."

Merry and Pippin. I decide to keep the details to myself. I know where they can find them. The Orcs made camp at Fanghorn Forrest, wherever that is. I may know locations of the story, but I don't know where they're actually located. And if I have all the answers that may look suspicious.

"I'm sorry," I tell Aragorn. "I haven't seen any Orcs."

"Might you tell us how you ended up here?" Gimli asks as Legolas finishes with my head. "And in such interesting clothing. Do all the people of Rohan wear that garb?"

"I'm not from Rohan, I'm from…somewhere else." I say, catching myself. I look down at my clothes. It's the same stuff I fell asleep in back home. Khaki capris and a purple tank-top with a red hoodie over it and sneakers. Thank god, I fell asleep in sneakers.

"I have never seen clothes like yours," Aragorn says, poking at one of the drawstrings on the hoodie.

"I—I made them myself," I covered.

Legolas's head shot up then, and he turned around, looking over the edge of the hill. Aragorn gets up beside him and slowly I rise as well.

In the distance, a large group of horses mounted by men travel in our direction. The Riders of Rohan.

As we wait for them to catch us, I contemplate my situation. I fell asleep drunk with Kristen and Claire at the beginning of _The Two Towers_ and now I'm here with my favorite characters, stuck in my favorite movie series. So what the hell am I supposed to do now? I would tell myself that this is a dream, but I know it's not. It just doesn't feel like it is. And yet, I want someone to pinch me awake.

But I have to admit, a little part of me is curious. I kind of want to stay here with them and adventure a little bit. And honestly, what could be the harm?

I stand beside Aragorn as the riders get closer. When they are within earshot, he calls out "Riders of Rohan! What news from the mark?"

The riders turn their party towards us and soon, we're surrounded, their spears pointed at us. "What business does an Elf, a Man, a woman, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?"

I try to contain my excitement. This is just like the movie! And there's Eomer! One of my favorite characters! Eeep!

"Speak quickly!" Eomer demands.

"Give me your name Horsemaster," Gimli counters. "And I shall give you mine."

Eomer hops off his horse and looks down at Gimli. "I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

In the blink of an eye, Legolas's bow is drawn, an arrow pointed right at Eomer's head. "You would die before your stroke fell," he threatens, as the spears of the riders all point to him in response.

Aragorn pulls Legolas's arm down, giving him a look of warning before turning back to Eomer. "I am Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, Son of Gloin and Legolas of the Woodland realm. This girl here is a traveler we've just encountered. We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden, your king."

Eomer takes off his helmet. "Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe. Not even his own kin." The riders all lift up their spears. "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and taken lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan and for that, we are banished." Eomer steps closer to Aragorn. "The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked and everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

"We are no spies," Aragorn defends. "We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They've taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed," Eomer says. "We slaughtered them during the night."

"There were two Hobbits," Gimli says. "Did you see two Hobbits with them?"

"They would be small," Aragorn says. "Only children to your eyes."

Eomer solemnly shakes his head. "We left none alive." He points behind him. "We piled the carcasses and burned them."

And suddenly, I can feel the moral around me sinking, like a disease. "Dead?" Gimli asks. I look between the three of them. Merry and Pippin aren't dead. They're in Fanghorn Forrest, but of course no one knows this. I decide to wait until the Riders of Rohan have left before saying anything. This fall of moral is depressing and I'm only now starting to remember how awful this story can get. The death and pain and suffering.

And the Ring. I totally forgot about the Ring.

"I am sorry," Eomer says. Then he whistles. "Hasslefeld, Errod, Theybrush!" he calls as three horses come out of the crowd. None of them has a rider. I remember how in the movie, he only gave two away. Here he gives three. One must be for me. "May these horses bear you better fortune than their former masters."

Eomer climbs back on his horse and looks down at us. "Look for your friends," he says. "But do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands."

And with that, the riders disperse, leaving me with the three guys. Aragorn turns to me, handing me the reins of one of the horses. "We leave you here. I do not know who you are, but I have covered for you with the riders. You should be safe in the Riddermark."

He begins to mount his horse. "Wait," I call. "I don't know these lands. Maybe I could come with you."

"We do not even know your name," Legolas says, helping Gimli mount their horse.

"My name is Rachel," I say. Aragorn looks at me for more. "Daughter of John."

Gimli chuckles as he sits on the saddle. "What strange names. And you wear those strange clothes. You talk funny."

"I don't talk funny," I defend.

"You have an odd dialect I've never heard," Aragorn says. "And I've traveled all over Middle-earth."

"Maybe I'm not from Middle-earth." But the men just look at me funny. I roll my eyes. "Please," I beg. "I don't know my way around Rohan. I don't know my way around anywhere. I'm not sure how I got here, I just ended up in the middle of the Riddermark."

"How can we know to trust you?" Aragorn asks.

I take a deep breath, hoping that my next words don't put an arrow through my chest. "Because I know where to find your Hobbit friends."


	2. Claire: Meeting the White Wizard

I always loved nature. It smells so nice, especially when it's rained and its super misty out.

That was until I woke up in the middle of it. My back was killing me and my head wasn't too happy either. But Kristen had the Bacardi, and I did have a particularly good exam. I felt like a little celebration was in order.

But I didn't think I'd get so drunk that I'd end up in the woods. I mean, it's not uncommon. About half of my college campus is in the woods. Rachel was even chased by two deer once. It was pretty hilarious.

As soon as my vision focused, though, I realized that I wasn't home. This wasn't the woods I was used too. I was somewhere foreign. Somewhere I'd never been before.

And I didn't like it.

"Did we lose him?" I heard a voice ask. "I think we lost him."

I peek over the tree root and see something I never in a million years thought I would see.

Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took are laying on the ground. And all I can do is stare in shock.

There's a rustle in the bushes in front of them. "I'm gonna rip out your filthy little innards!" And the most disgusting creature I have ever seen comes out and starts chasing the Hobbits. An Orc! And holy hell I can smell him from here.

The Orc chases them through the forest and when there close enough, I call out to them. "Hey, over here! Come climb a tree!"

I start ascending, remembering that that's what they did in the movie to meet my personal favorite character, Treebeard. I hope to god that the tree I'm climbing is in fact an Ent as the Hobbits follow me with nowhere else to go.

When I reach a suitable height, I look down at Merry and Pippin. "You okay down there?" I call.

"Who are you?" Pippin asks as Merry starts to struggle. Below the latter is the Orc, tugging on his ankle and pulling him to the ground as Merry kicks it in the face.

"Merry!" Pippin calls from below me before letting out an "Ugh!" The tree starts to shift. Yes! I did it! I picked the right tree!

Pippin let's go and falls, but Treebeard catches him. As the Orc raises its sword above Merry, Treebeard moves and I hold on for dear life as his…for lack of a better word, foot squishes the Orc. "Run Merry!" Pippin calls.

"No, it's alright!" I call as the Hobbit on the ground scrambles to get away. But Treebeard is faster and picks him up with his other hand.

"Little Orcs!" Treebeard snarls.

"It's talking, Merry," Pippin says in shock. "The tree is talking."

"Tree?" Treebeard exclaims. "I am no tree. I am an Ent."

"A treehearder," Merry says, a smile on his face. "A shepherd of the forest."

"Don't talk to it, Merry," Pippin says. "Don't encourage it. It's in cahoots with that girl who almost got you killed."

"Hey!" I call down from Treebeard's head. "I was trying to save you, thank you very much."

"I do not know the one on top of my head," the Ent says. "Treebeard, some call me."

"And I'm Claire, just in case you were wondering."

"We weren't!" Pippin snaps. "Whose side are you on?"

"Side? I am on nobody's side, because nobody is on my side, little Orc. Nobody cares for the woods anymore."

"We're not Orcs. We're Hobbits," Merry tells the Ent, who just continues walking.

"Hobbits?" Treebeard asks. "Never heard of a Hobbit before. Sounds like Orc mischief to me. They come with fire, they come with axes. Knawing, biting, breaking, hacking, burning. Destroyers and usurpers, curse them!"

"No, Treebeard!" I call, holding tight to my perch as the Hobbits try to get free. "They're not Orcs they're telling the truth! They're friends of Gandalf!"

Treebeard slows down. "What do you know of the Wizard, human?"

I slacken my grip. "I know he'll be severely pissed off if you kill these Hobbits."

Treebeard chuckles. "Ask him yourself, human." Treebeard drops Merry and pippin on the ground and reaches up to me, grabbing me and dropping me down beside the Hobbits. Geeze, these guys are small.

Out of nowhere, a tall man dressed in white robes appears before me and the Hobbits. "Gandalf?" Merry asks. Yup, it's him alright. Gandalf the White.

"Yes. That was what they used to call me," the Wizard says as he looks between Merry and Pippin. "I know your faces. Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took." Then Gandalf turns to me. "Your face I do not know."

"I'm Claire," I tell the Wizard. "I'm not exactly from here."

"No, you wouldn't be from the forest."

"I don't think you understand," I explain. "I'm not from Middle-earth. I don't know how I got here. One minute I was in my friend Kristen's apartment, the next—,"

"What's an apartment?" Pippin asks.

"Quiet Peregrin Took," Gandalf snaps. The Wizard looks me up and down, examining. "How many are here with you?"

"I'm here by myself."

"No," Gandalf says. "How many came to Middle-earth? Who were you with before you came here?"

"Just my friends, Kristen and Rachel. But I doubt—,"

"Three." Gandalf muses. "There are three of you. So it is true then."

"What's true, Gandalf?" Merry asks.

"Three humans of a different world brought here by Sauron." Gandalf walks over to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. "You know this story? The one you're in now, my dear?"

" _The Lord of the Rings_? Yes, cover to cover."

"Is anything different? Is anything changed?"

"You mean other than me being here?" I ask, confused. "No, it hasn't. And what do you mean Sauron brought me here? Sauron's just a giant eye—,"

"You know too much!" Gandalf says, cutting me off. "The story will try to change, Claire. Everything will try to change because Sauron has thrown you into his mess. But you and your friends must do their best to keep it on track, without telling the future, for it is certain if the future is made clear, it will change."

"How are we supposed to do that? I don't even know if Rachel and Kristen are here?"

"Oh, they are here," Gandalf says, looking around the forest. "Sauron knows I've figured out this plan. Merry and Pippin won't remember this conversation, my dear. Just be sure to keep the story on track."

"But Gandalf," I say, remembering the reason we put the DVDs on in the first place. "My friend Kristen. She doesn't know the story. She doesn't know where it's supposed to go. How can she guide it forward?"

"Wherever Kristen is, my dear, she will have to find her own path." Gandalf reaches into his pocket and pulls out a white cloth. "Here, fore your head," he says, handing it to me. "You must have had a nasty fall.

I reach up to my forehead and dried residue of blood is there, along with the sting of a cut. I guess I didn't notice before because of all the excitement with the Orc.

"Treebeard," Gandalf calls up to the Ent, who opens his eyes like he's been asleep. "Take them to the Entmoot. It is time you decided your place in this war."


	3. Rachel: Fanghorn Forest

Aragorn has jumped off his horse and walks towards me, fast. "You said you did not know of the Uruk party."

"I never lied!" I defend. Geeze this guy could get scary if he wanted. "I said I hadn't seen the party. The Riders of Rohan killed the Orcs just outside of Fanghorn."

"How do you know this?" Legolas asks. "Did the Hobbits escape?"

"Yes! Into Fanghorn!"

"Fanghorn?" Gimli asks. "What madness drove them in there?"

"Why did you not speak of this before?" Aragorn asks.

"I—I didn't know what you'd do to me."

Aragorn smiles and I release the tension in my shoulders. "Very well Rachel, Daughter of John. We will follow the Hobbits into Fanghorn. But if they are not there, we will leave you in the middle of the forest. And Fanghorn is not a pleasant place."

He turns and climbs up on his horse with ease, as does Legolas. With a bit more difficulty, I mount my own. I thank god for all those summers of camp counseling I did. Maybe if I can get my hands on a bow and some arrows I may be able to defend myself. I'm a pretty good shot.

I kick Theybrush with my heels and he takes off, following Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli over to the cloud of smoke that is the bodies of the Orcs. "Look!" Gimli calls, pointing to the pile. Legolas jumps off and grabs what the Dwarf was pointing to. Legolas pulls out a charred object. "It's one of their wee belts."

Aragorn gives me a nasty look. I think back to the movie. Aragorn is the exert tracker. "Look at the ground," I call to him. "You can track them into the forest, trust me."

Aragorn hops off of the horse and starts examining. "A Hobbit lay here," he says as Legolas helps Gimli off the horse. "The other here. They crawled, their hands were bound." Aragorn starts following the tracks. He picks up a piece of rope. "Their bonds were cut. They ran over here and were followed." He stands and starts running. "The tracks lead away from the battle into Fanghorn Forest."

At the edge of the trees, we stand. The men don't go it. "So you told the truth?" Legolas asks.

I turn to him. "Why would I lie?"

"Then you are on our side?" Aragorn asks. "Not the enemy?"

"I'm not with Sauron, if that's what you're asking."

Aragorn nods. "Very well." He turns back to the forest. "Here we go."

* * *

Okay, so the forest is really creepy. Way more creepy in person than from a TV screen. It's cold and damp and everywhere around me, it's like there are whispers. Gimli touches a leaf that's been stained black and puts the substance in his mouth, spitting it out in disgust. "Orc blood."

"What does it taste like?" I ask. I was always curious.

"Like acid, lass. Stings the tongue."

Aragorn continues following the trail, bending down. "These are strange tracks."

"The air's so close in here," Gimli says.

"This forest is old," Legolas says. "Very old. Full of memory. And anger." Then the trees start creaking. The whispering sound gets louder. "The trees are speaking to each other."

Gimli is shaking with fear, raising his ax into the air. It takes everything I have not to laugh at them. It's just the Ents.

What I am excited for is Gandalf. He should be here any second. If any character in the books knows what happened to me, it would be him.

"Gimli, lower your ax," Aragorn instructs and reluctantly, Gimli does so.

"They have feelings, my friend." Legolas says. "The Elves began it, waking up the trees, teaching them to talk."

"Talking trees?" Gimli mutters. "What do trees have to talk about? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."

Ahead of Gimli and me, Legolas calls Aragorn over in Elfish. "The White Wizard approaches."

Aragorn flashes me an angry look. He thinks I've lead him to Saruman. But finally, Gandalf is here. "So not let him speak," Aragorn says. "He will put a spell on us. We must be quick."

The men all turn and fling their weapons. I just stand there and roll my eyes. Aragorn's sword burns his hands and he drops it. "You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits," Gandalf says, cloud in a shining white light that conceals his face. This part was always a bit dramatic for me.

"Where are they?" Aragorn asks.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"

"Who are you?" Aragorn demands. "Show yourself!"

The light dims and there he is. And if you're reading this I assume you know the drill. Everyone bows, everyone's shocked. Except for me. Gandalf barely pays attention to me as he recounts his battle with the Balrog for Aragorn. I wait patiently for Gandalf to finish.

"Gandalf? Yes, that was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Gray. I am Gandalf the White and I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide."

At this moment, Gandalf waves his staff. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas freeze. What the hell? I turn to Gandalf, who walks toward me. "Which one are you?" he asks.

"Excuse me?"

"Your friend Claire said she had two companions, Rachel and Kristen. Which one are you?

"Rachel," I answer, immediately confused. "You've seen Claire? I thought it was just me."

"No," Gandalf counters. "There are three. Where Kristen is, I do not know."

"What about Claire? Where is she?"

"With Merry and Pippin. She will be safe in the company of Treebeard."

"Oh, awesome! She loves Treebeard."

"Yes, yes. Now, my dear, what have you told them," Gandalf points to the men. "Do they know of where you come from?"

"No. I just helped them find Merry and Pippin. Do you know why I'm here, Gandalf?"

"Yes, you're here to mess up the story."

I do a double take. "Huh?"

"This is Sauron's plan. To bring in three humans from the outside world to corrupt the story, to change things. Fortunately for us, you already know the story, so you can keep it on track."

"Right, I know the story and Claire knows the story. But Kristen doesn't. You said she was here too? What if she ended up in Mordor, surrounded by Orcs or with the Wildmen who are destroying Rohan—,"

"Silence, child, you mustn't give away anything."

"Well, then how am I supposed to guide the story?"

"You are a smart girl, you will figure it out."

At that, Gandalf waves his staff and the men wake up. "Might you have something a little darker?" Gandalf asks, motioning to his white robes. "I don't exactly blend in."

Aragorn nods and reaches into a pack on his back, pulling out Lorien cloaks. He hands one to Gandalf and one to me. "What's this for?" I ask.

"You are one of us now, yes?" Aragorn says. "You lead us back to Gandalf, and for that I am grateful."

I take the cloak with a smile, wrapping it around my shoulders. I always wanted one of these. "Might you have something the girl can defend herself with?" Gandalf asks.

"What is your weapon of choice?" Legolas asks.

"Bow and arrow," I say.

Legolas pulls one off his back, not the same one he used to shoot Gandalf with just now. "Here. I received a new one from the lady Galadriel. You may have this one, crafted by my people."

"And a quiver," Aragorn says, pulling his own off his back. "I prefer swords anyway."

I smile at them, putting everything on. "Thank you," I say. I do a twirl. "How do I look?"

Gandalf laughs. "You look like a fighter." He starts to lead us out of the forest. "Quickly," he says. "We must travel to Edoras at full speed."

"Edoras?" Gimli asks. "That is no short distance."

"We hear of trouble in Rohan," Aragorn says. "It grows ill with the king."

"Well, lucky for us, we have a guide," Gandalf says, looking at me. "The coming of Rachel and her friends will be like the small rocks that start an avalanche."

Aragorn smiles. "In one thing you have not changed, my friend. You still speak in riddles."

Gandalf leads us further to the tree line and we break at a sunny hill. Somehow, our horses have made their way here. Gandalf stands on the edge of the hill and lets out a whistle. A white horse comes out of nowhere, galloping in our direction.

"That is one of the Meras," Legolas says. "Unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."

"Shadowfax," Gandalf says, petting the horse's mane. "He is the lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers."

We all mount horses and follow Gandalf until well after nightfall across the plains of Rohan. When I get off my horse, my buns are absolutely crying in pain. The boys all go to sleep as Gandalf stands at the edge of the cliff. I'm afraid to go to sleep. If I do, what if I go back home? I'm not ready to leave this yet.

I get up and walk over to Gandalf. "The vailing shadow that takes clouds in the East takes shape," he says. "Sauron will suffer no rival. Through the Gates of Barad-dur his eye watches ceaselessly. But he is not so mighty yet that he is above fear. It is why he sent you and your friends. Doubt ever knaws at him. He will know by now that you and Claire have sworn allegiance to his opposes and he will not be happy.

Saruman had poisoned the mind of the king and he and Sauron are now tied in allegiance. And together they are tightening the noose on the world of Men. They will strike Rohan first. But for all that, we do have one advantage."

"What's that?"

"The Ring remains hidden. And that we should seek to destroy it has not yet entered their deepest thoughts. And so the Ring makes its way slowly into Mordor and each day it gets closer to its doom. We must trust now in Frodo. Everything depends on speed and the scrutiny of his quest."

I sink to the ground, sudden realization of where the story is headed. "I forgot about the Ring again." I mutter.

"What?"

"That's where Kristen is," I say. "If we were put here to change things, Kristen would be most dangerous with the Ring. She's with Frodo and Sam."

"Sam?" Gandalf asks. "Sam is with him?"

"Yes."

"That is good. As for Kristen, we must hope for the best. Hope that she can keep things on track without knowledge of the future." He pauses before turning to me. "You must get some rest. We still have much more ground to cover."

I want to tell Gandalf about Gollum. He's with Frodo and Sam and he's a threat. But I know I can't.

Knowledge of the future will surely change the future.


	4. Claire: Ent-juice

Treebeard had lay us down to rest before taking off into the forest. When we woke, Merry had some questions for me.

"Where are you from?"

I hesitate from answering as Gandalf told me it was imperative the Hobbits knew nothing of my knowledge of the story. "A far off land," I answer.

"And you're completely on our side?"

"Yes. Gandalf told you you can trust me."

"I suppose."

Pippin was sitting by a small bit of running water, drinking it out of it and I remember this part of the movie. It's Ent-juice or something like that. Anyway it makes you grow taller.

"I had the loveliest dream last night," Pip said. "There was this large barrow full of pipe-weed and Merry, you and I smoked all of it and then you were sick. I'd give anything for a whiff of Old Toby."

As Pippin stood up, tree-ish sounds came out of the woods. "Did you hear that?" Merry asked before turning back to Pippin. "It was you! You just said something tree-ish."

"No I didn't. I was just stretching."

Merry walked closer to Pippin. "You're taller!"

"Taller than what?"

"Than me!"

"I've always been taller than you."

"Pippin, everyone knows I'm the tall one, you're the short one."

Pip chuckles. "Please, Merry. You're what? Three foot six at the most. Whereas me, I'm pushing three seven." The Entish sound comes out of his mouth. "Three eight!"

Merry reaches for the pitcher of water and starts chugging and I laugh at their banter. Pippin chases him and they trip over some tree roots. And it takes a minute for me to realize that they're squirming, getting trapped by the tree.

I jump up and run over as their faces get covered. "Merry! Pippin!" I call, panicking. I don't know the Extended Versions of the DVDs as well as the normal ones and I can't remember what happens to get them out. "Treebeard!" I yell, turning around. "Treebeard, help!"

Treebeard comes out of the woods. "Away with you!" he says to the tree. "You should not be waking. Eat earth, dig deep. Drink water, go to sleep."

The roots retract as the Hobbits scramble back out. "Come," Treebeard says, picking up the Hobbits, then me. "It isn't safe.

Back on his head, Treebeard told us of the Ents and the forest. "The trees have grown wild and dangerous. Anger festers in their hearts. Black are their thoughts. Strong is their hate. There are too few of us now. Too few Ents left to manage them."

"Why are there so few of you when you've lived so long?" Pippin asks. "Are there Ent children?"

"There have been no Entings for a terrible long count of years."

"Why's that?" Merry asks.

"We lost the Ent-wives."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Pippin says. I know this part of the story all too well. The Ents are my favorite race of Middle-earth. And it kills me to hear the pain in Treebeard's voice. "How did they die?"

"Die?" Treebeard asks. "No, we lost them. And now we cannot find them. I don't supposed you've seen Ent-wives in the Shire?"

"Can't say that I have," Merry says. "You, Pip?"

Pippin shakes his head. "What do they look like?"

"I don't remember now," Treebeard says, solemnly. A feel a tear trickle down my eye.

I hope Rachel and Kristen are having more fun than me.


	5. Rachel: Edoras

The next morning, Gandalf lead us further into Rohan, up to a city with houses stretched across a large hill and a grand hall parched near the peak.

"Edoras," Gandalf told us. "And the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is strong."

Gandalf leads us closer to the city and we enter its gates with an unwelcome look from the gatekeeper. When we enter the city, the people give us all weird looks. Especially me, since I'm dressed so funny. I hear Gimli mutter "You'd find more cheer in a graveyard."

I notice Aragorn's gaze at the Meduseld and I see a woman standing there.

Eowyn.

There is no character I love more in the series. I absolutely adore her. I want to be her.

I do my best to hide my pleasure as I steer my horse up the hill. When we reach the hall we dismount and follow Gandalf up to the front gates where we're greeted by a guard. I can't remember his name. I think it's Hama. Or Gamling. I get those two mixed up.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Grayhelm. By order of Grima Wormtongue."

Gandalf nods at us as the men start handing over their weapons. Reluctantly, I hand over my new bow and quiver. I better get those back.

Gandalf looks at Hama/Gamling for approval, but he's not satisfied. "Your staff," he demands.

"Oh, you would not part an old man from his walking stick?" Gandalf asks, innocently. Hama/Gamling concedes and lets us into the hall, Gandalf giving me a wink as he uses Legolas's arm for support, making him look weaker than he actually is.

The Golden Hall is not golden. It's made of wood and stretches very far. An old man sits on the throne with this oily creature sitting beside him. Théoden and Grima. Ugh, I hate Grima. He always looks so nasty and the way he treats Eowyn? Gross.

Grima whispers things into the king's ear as we approach the throne. "The curtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King." Gandalf says.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" Théoden asks weakly from his throne.

"A just question, my liege," Grima swoons before standing and walking towards us. "Late is the hour at which this conjuror chooses to appear. Lathspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest."

"Silent!" Gandalf snaps in Grima's face. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passes through fire and death to bandy crooked words from a witless worm." He raises his staff in Grima's face.

"His staff!" Grima panics. "I told you to take the Wizard's staff!"

From every direction Rohirim try to get to Gandalf and take the staff from him. Gimli, Aragorn, and Legolas with no weapons fend them off in hand to hand combat. As Gandalf starts performing his spell, I suddenly feel helpless. I want to help fight but I'm wearing zero armor and these guys are huge and all of them have weapons. I try to look as small as possible. The guys handled it very well in the movie. They can handle it here as well.

It doesn't take them long and it seems that most of the people here don't want to stop Gandalf. That's interesting to me. I never noticed that before.

"Harken to me!" Gandalf calls, slowly raising his staff. "I release you from the spell."

But Théoden just laughs. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Gray!"

Gandalf throws off the Lorien cloak, revealing his new white garments. "I will draw you Saruman as poison is drawn from a wound." I have to admit, seeing Gandalf pull off this kind of spell in person is really great.

Eowyn comes out of a door and makes for her uncle, but Aragorn holds her back. "Wait," he commands.

"If I go," Théoden says, but it's not his voice. It's Saruman's. "Théoden dies."

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him," Gandalf counters.

"Rohan is mine!"

"Be gone!" And with one last effort, Saruman leaves Théoden's body. Aragorn lets Eowyn go and she runs to her uncle.

Legolas comes over to me. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I tell him. I notice my hands are shaking and I'm not sure if it's from excitement or something else. "We just don't have a lot of this where I'm from."

We turn back to the king. "Gandalf?" he asks.

"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf says, a smile on his face.

Théoden stands slowly. "Dark have been my dreams of late." He looks at his hands, working the muscles in his fingers.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword."

Hama/Gamling brings up Théoden's sheathed sword and he pulls is out, all regal and stuff. Grima makes his way out of Gimli's grasp. Théoden orders him to be taken outside.

The Rohirim throw Grima onto the stone ground, hard. "I've only ever served you my lord!" Grima pleads as Théoden inches towards him.

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!"

"Send me not from your sights!"

Théoden pulls his sword up and reflexively, my eyes jump to Aragorn. In the movie, he stopped Théoden, but here he does nothing. What's going on?

Gandalf said I had to keep the story on track. Well here goes nothing.

I run up to the king and grab his arms as they move down to strike Grima. "No, my lord!" I cry. "You can't kill him!" Geeze this guy is strong. It takes everything I have to keep the sword from hitting Grima.

Grima gets up and runs down the stairs as someone calls out, "Hail, Théoden King!" Everyone bows and I follow them, earning a nasty look from Théoden.

Above me I hear Théoden mumble "Where is Théodred? Where is my son?"

* * *

There was a private funeral for Théodred that I was happy not to attend. I didn't want the king snarling at me. Gandalf didn't go either. He sat down beside me in Meduseld. "What you did to the king," Gandalf asks me. "Were you doing your job?"

"I was keeping the story on track," I assure him. "Grima can't die. Not yet."

Gandalf nods and leaves the throne room. I spot Aragorn at the other side of the hall. "Hey!" I call to him. "What the hell was that?"

"Excuse me?" he asks, looking confused.

"With the king and Grima. Why didn't you stop him?"

Aragorn walks over to me and sits down. "I was about to, but you got there first."

I grab my head in frustration. Gandalf was right. When you throw new faces into the mix, things start to change. I may have severely screwed things up, even when doing what had to be done.

* * *

Plates of food are brought into the hall for us to eat but only Gimli touches it. Our weapons are returned. Soon, the king is back sitting on his throne, his clothes changed. Gandalf has taken Grima's seat.

Eowyn brought in two children from the outer rim of the Riddermark. These were the kids whose mom sent them away to warn Edoras of the Wildmen who were destroying everything in their path in the name of Saruman. "They had no warning," she tells us. "And now the Wildmen are riding through the Westfold burning as they go. Rick, cot, and tree."

"Where's Momma?" the little girl asks, but Eowyn covers her with a blanket, keeping her quiet.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash," Gandalf warns Théoden. "All the more potent when backed up by fears of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight."

"You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak," Aragorn says. "Eomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king."

Théoden rises from his throne. "They would be three hundred leagues from here by now. Eomer cannot help us." He turns to Gandalf. "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not risk further death of my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war is upon you," Aragorn warns. "Whether you would risk it or not."

Théoden turns to my ranger friend. "I value your opinion but I fear you do not heed my words. I cannot have my people slaughtered. As king, this is my duty."

And there's what I've changed by saving Grima's life. The tension between Aragorn and Theoden isn't there. All of Théoden's resentment is aimed at me, because I embarrassed him in front of his people.

"Then what is the king's decision?" Gandalf asks.

"We will ride to Helm's Deep."

* * *

"Helm's Deep?" Gimli asks as we make our way to the stables. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who would protect them if not their king?"

"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helm's Deep has saved them in the past," Aragorn defends.

"There is no way out of that ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety." Gandalf makes to open Shadowfax's stall. "Rachel, come here."

I get closer to him and Aragorn. "Théoden has a strong will, but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you, both of you before the end. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses have to hold."

"Gandalf, there's something about Helm's Deep," I start to warn him.

"Please do not tell me, my dear, especially if you plan to change something. Remember, even the smallest things change the course of the tale." He strokes Shadowfax. "The Gray Pilgrim. That was what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of Men I've walked this earth and now I have no time. With luck my search will not be in vain." Gandalf mounts his horse. "Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."

Gandalf rides out of the stables and past the gates of Rohan. "What did he mean 'The course of the tale'?" Aragorn asks me.

"You said it yourself," I answer. "Gandalf speaks in riddles."

* * *

Back in Meduseld, everyone is packing for Helm's Deep. Since everything I own is on my back, I just sit patiently and watch everyone scramble.

"I have never met a woman who looks quite like you." I look to my right and Eowyn is there. She's changed out of her funeral garb and now wears a traveling dress.

"Well, trust me, I'm not that special," I tell her.

"Oh, but you are!" she insists, moving closer to me and sitting down. "You travel with Elves and Rangers and Wizards. And you must be a fighter with that bow."

I smile, flattered. "Thank you. But I'm really just something of a stray they picked up."

She looks me up and down. "Will you travel comfortably in those clothes?"

"Actually, the ride over here was pretty rough on me. These pants aren't exactly fit for riding."

Eowyn smiles. "Come with me. I may have some riding dresses that would fit you."

She leads me to her quarters where she hands me a pale dress with a brown vest to go over it and a pair of boots. "And these," she says, handing me some dark pants. "They are sturdy and built for riding. Try them on, see if they fit."

I walk behind the changing panel and throw off the nasty cotton I was wearing before. There are comfortable wool socks in the boots that fill up the extra room that's a little big for me. The pants are snug and there is a bit of extra lining inside them, probably to shield my butt from the saddle. Eowyn is a bit skinnier than I am, though and the dress is a little snug, but its tightness is hidden by the vest.

"Very nice," she says when I come out. "You look more normal now."

I laugh. "Did I really look that strange before?"

Eowyn smiles. "Did you not notice everyone staring at you?" I choose to ignore her and we stand in awkward silence for a moment. "So you're an archer?" she asks.

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know what I am. It's not like I've ever shot at anybody. I'm not a bad shot at targets, so that's what I picked"

"Women of Rohan learned long ago to defend themselves. Unfortunately, the practice has died out amongst the commoners."

"Just amongst the commoners?" I ask, knowing full well Eowyn is a very well-practiced swords woman. "I don't know how to sword-fight."

Her eyes light up. "I could teach you! We have a bit of time before we leave for Helm's Deep. Why don't we practice in the stables?"

* * *

Suffice it to say, I suck.

Eowyn is a good teacher, but I think it's hopeless. These swords are way heavier than they seem. "You're muscles are more suited for the bow," Eowyn tells me. "But if we practice, you will get better, I guarantee."

I'm nasty and sweaty as I continue to parry her thrusts. I do a swing and a turn and my blade crashes with another behind me. Aragorn stands there, his knife holding my sword in place. "I thought you were an archer," he says.

I attempt to thrust his knife away, but he is so much stronger than I am, it looks so pathetic. "Obviously I am. Can't you see I'm horrible?"

"All beginners must develop the proper reflexes. It takes time and practice. You seem to have improved since you first began."

"Have you been watching me?" I ask.

"I've been packing my horse. It is almost time to leave. Theoden grows restless."

Eowyn walks over as Aragorn goes back to his horse Errod. My horse, Theybrush is beside him. Since I own very little in this world I've only packed the cotton clothes I wore before Eowyn gave me these. I had them washed but they're all worn now after days of traveling. I probably should throw them away, but homesickness can't be far from me. Probably after I get used to this strange land. My bow and quiver are strapped to Theybrush's side.

I turn back to Eowyn and hand her my sword. "Oh, no," she insists. "I got that from the smithy for you. It's weighted for your size."

For the first time, I actually look at the sword. Intricately carved into the handle are horses galloping in the rivets for the fingers. The rolling hills of the Riddermark make up the base. I look at Eowyn and smile. "Thank you." Everyone here has given me so many gifts. I fear all I've done is screw up the story, no matter how slightly.


	6. Kristen: The Man in Charge

Claire and Rachel are wimps.

At least that's what I thought when they had fallen asleep before the movie had really even started. But I guess because I had never seen it before it held my interest longer.

But, I fell asleep anyway and when I woke up…oh man.

The sun was shining in my eyes and when I opened them, I had to squint from the brightness. I grabbed my throbbing head and retracted it immediately when there was a sting. When I pulled my hand back, it was covered in blood. I put the sleeve of my jacket onto my head for pressure and looked around.

I was on some sort of grassy cliff overlooking a long forest of pine trees. The air smelt faintly of smoke. Immediately I started to panic. This was not my college campus. This was not a prank from Rachel and Claire.

The stinging on my head died down a bit and through the bushes to my right, I suddenly heard a loud moaning.

"Ah! What's it doing! Stupid, fat Hobbit! It ruins it!" Instinctively, my legs came up to cover my chest, slowly. I knew that squeaky annoying voice…even if I hadn't been watching the movie.

"What's to ruin?" another voice—more human this time—added. "There's hardly any meat on them. What we need's a feed good taters."

"What's taters, precious? What's taters, eh?"

"Po-ta-toes," the softer male enunciated. "Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew. Lovely, big, golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish. Even you couldn't say no to that."

"Oh, yes we could. Spoil a nice fish. Give it to us raw and wriggling. You keep nasty chips."

"You're hopeless."

Making my way over to the bushes, I peaked through ever so slightly, making no noise. Right in front of my eyes were Sam and Gollum. I honestly couldn't believe it. And yet, there it was, right in front of my eyes.

And there was Frodo. Even though I found this part of the story a little boring, I really liked Frodo. The fact that he chooses to carry the Ring to save an entire kingdom when he could just go home? I admired that bravery.

Frodo got up and started walking through the bushes, luckily away from me. "Mr. Frodo?" Sam called, leaving his pot of stew and following. I didn't want to move, but I heard what sounded like an elephant. Gollum was with them now, so I stood up to look for the noise.

It wasn't an elephant. Or was it? It was about five times the size of one and its tusks were massive. It made the same noises elephants made, but its hide was covered in interesting paint. A large caravan was strapped to its back and below its feet were about a thousand masked men, all marching through the brush.

All of a sudden, arrows were flying at the troops. Men were dropping right in front of me, dead. The elephant thing was making its way towards me, the dude on his back having spotted my hiding spot. I would have run, but I was in complete shock. An arrow hit the man guiding the elephant and his body landed right in front of me. I just sat there, looking at him.

I had never really contemplated death. This man was alive and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

Instantly, there was something cold at my neck. "Do not scream. Do not try to run," a male voice said.

"Please," I told him, noticing the cold was the blade of a sword. "Please, I just want to go home."

"Stand," the man told me, and I did as he commanded. Another man in a hood came from the trees with rope in his hand. He tired my own behind my back and the tip of the sword pocked me. "Move," the man commanded.

He led me through a tree line to a larger group of men in hoods. The Hobbits, Sam and Frodo were also held at sword-point.

"We are bound to an errand of secrecy," Frodo was telling on of the men. I couldn't see his face, but I assumed he was the leader of this pack. "Those who oppose the enemy would do well not to hinder us."

"Enemy?" the man in charge asked. He walks over to a fallen body and turns it over. "His sense of duty was no less than yours, I take it. I wonder what his name was. Or where he came from. What he felt when that arrow hit his heart. What lies he was told to bring him to this side or how powerful they were to make him leave his home. War will make corpses of us all."

He turns to me. "And what of you? A spy for these men? Your clothing is strange, like theirs. Perhaps you are one of their spies."

"N-no," I stutter. I get a good look at this guy for the first time, and he's actually quite handsome. His hood has moves back, exposing soft grey eyes. He looked too kind for this job. "I'm not from here. I don't even know who those men are."

"If you are not from here, then where do you hail? There are no travelers on this road, only those who service the dark tower."

"I'm not a traveler. I just woke up on the side of the road with this cut on my head. Please, untie my hands."

"I am sorry," the leader says. "No one can be trusted." He turns to the Hobbits. "Bind their hands."

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks so much for reading the story this far! Now that all three women have been introduced, I'd like to tell you that these characters are based off of me and my two best friends. They're both helping me with some details and they both picked the points of the story they wanted to enter. Shoot me a review or a suggestion! I love hearing from my readers!_


	7. Rachel: Warg Attack

We had been traveling for two days, taking little break and moving slowly with all of these children and elders in tow. Theoden allowed the people a longer break on the afternoon of the second day. He still would not talk to me, angry for degrading him in front of his people after he had been under Saruman's control for months.

I helped Eowyn make some stew. Since that day we spent together training, we've become really close. In gaining a new girlfriend, I thought it would help with the separation from Kristen and Claire, but it just makes me miss them more.

As it turns out, Eowyn knows nothing of how to cook. In fact, she looked positively clueless on how to cook the food in the pot. She almost threw in a cut of meat covered in inedible fat before I stopped her.

"What is wrong with it?" she asked.

"You can't eat this white stuff here," I said, pointing at the fat and grabbing a knife. "And the meat won't cook in the water unless you cut it into smaller pieces."

Eowyn grabbed a knife and started cutting off the fat. "My mother did not have the chance to teach me how to cook."

"Oh, my dad taught me."

"Really?" she asked. "I do not know many men who cook."

"My dad loves cooking. He had to make sure I knew how to cook all the bar-be-q."

"Bar-be-q?" she asked, unfamiliar.

I smiled. "It's how we cook meat where I'm from. Over coals or some type of hot gas."

She threw her meat slices into the pot. "My father passed when I was very young."

I threw in my own slices and grabbed a carrot. "I'm sorry."

"It is not your fault. I just hope you realize how lucky you are. Your parents may be far away, but at least they are alive. At least you know that they care."

"I think you're luckier than you give yourself credit."

She looked a little angry at this suggestion. "How can you justify—,"

"I just meant that you have your uncle," I explained. "A man who loves you like his own daughter. And you have Eomer."

She nodded, stirring the stew. "I suppose you're right." She stood then, grabbing the pot off of the fire. "I'll distribute this to as many as I can. People will be hungry. Then, maybe we can have a sword lesson?"

I smiled. "I'd like that very much."

I watched her walk away as a shadow came over me. I turned and found Theoden there, towering over me. I stood up hurriedly. "I did not see you approach, my lord."

He waves a gloved hand at me. "No matter." His eyes follow Eowyn, who is serving stew to Aragorn. "I haven't seen my niece smile for a long time. She was a girl when they brought her father back dead, cut down by Orcs. She watched her mother succumb to grief and she was left alone to tend her King to growing fear. Doomed to wait upon an old man who should have loved her as a father. Sometimes I fear that I have failed her."

"She loves you very much. Her only resentment is that she is treated unfairly. As something less than the men around her. Her brother travels the Riddermark, working to drive the Orcs out of the land. Being a hero. And she was stuck in Meduseld, watching you fall. Caring for Theodred's body when it was found. All the while, Grima tormented her. Borderline sexual harassment."

"I know why you did what you did," the king said. "Back at Edoras. You are young, you are a woman. You have seen very little of death. And I can understand showing mercy on Grima. But if you know these things of him, the torment he caused my niece, the way he manipulated me, how he banished my nephew. I don't understand after all that how you could allow him to live."

I wish I could explain to Theoden how Grima had to live because in the end, he's the one who kills Saruman. That without the mercy, Saruman's torment would spread throughout Middle-earth instead of focusing on Rohan. Grima may be a nasty, greasy, slimeball, but he plays such an important part in the scheme of things. I didn't know what would happen if I had just let him die.

"You're right about me," I tell the king. "I don't know much about death. I've never actually seen it. And Grima—I feel like his role will be important. He is, after all, a man of Rohan. His loyalty cannot be swayed so far that he would abandon the West completely."

Theoden nods. "I am a stubborn man. As a leader I must be. Every decision I make must be final, for I cannot afford to disappoint my people by going back on my word. You are smart, my lady, but you are not yet wise."

I nod at the king. He is right. I'm not wise. I just know a lot about these people. That doesn't mean I know what to do with that knowledge. "I'm sorry for what I did. Your people did not need to see you degraded by a foreigner and stranger."

The king nodded. "The Elf convinced me to talk to you. He seems to hold you in high regard."

"Legolas?" I asked, confused. "Legolas and I have barely spoken."

"If there is one thing I have learned of the Elves, it is that they are most excellent judge of character."

The king turned away, back to his horse, Hama, and Gamling. I saw Legolas stroking the mane of his horse, Hasselfeld. I wonder if he knows about me. There's no way he can know the whole thing, but I'm guessing that he knows more about me than I would like.

* * *

Giving Theybrush's back a rest, I walked beside Eowyn and Aragorn back on the road. "Where is she?" Eowyn asked him. "The woman who gave you that jewel?"

"She is sailing to the Undying Lands with the rest of her kin."

I already knew this, so I was paying attention to Legolas, who was far ahead of the group, Gimli riding Hasselfeld in the line. The Elf stood on the side of a ridge, scouting ahead with his Elf-eyes. I hopped onto Theybrush, knowing what was coming.

The Warg attack.

I urged Theybrush forward, up the cliff and towards the Elf. Hama and Gamling left the group as well, trotting below the ridge and out of my sight. "Do you see something?" I asked Legolas.

"No, but I hear it," he says. "Something foul draws near."

Below the ridge, I hear Gamling and Hama cry out as the metal of swords begins to clash. Like a bolt of lightning, Legolas jumps off the ridge towards the cries. A nasty looking creature sits on top of a large, dog-like thing. An Orc and a Warg. I clumsily pull my bow off my back and knock an arrow into its string. But Legolas is as fast as The Flash, shooting down the Warg and slitting the throat of the Orc. "A scout!" he cries over to me. But I'm not really paying attention.

Hama's body lay on the ground, torn apart and bloody. I stare at the mess, in shock of the life that was just inside and is now gone.

"Rachel!" Legolas cries, bringing me back. "You must move! Warn the others! Send Gimli to me!"

I kick Theybrush, who turns and sends me in the opposite direction. Aragorn is at the base of the ridge. "Wargs!" I call to him. "They're coming to attack!" Aragorn turns and runs to the king, recounting what I've just announced. The people in the group start to panic with news of an attack.

"All riders to the head of the column!" Theoden cries.

"Gimli, get on your horse!" I tell him, yelling over the screams of the women. "Find Legolas!"

I turn my horse around and gather with the rest of the riders. "No," Aragorn says to me as I get closer.

"Don't tell me what to do!" I yell at him.

"You could barely lift a sword three days ago. Your reflexes with the bow are not sharp. You will be more of a hindrance than an asset."

"Aragorn, I have to do this!"

"Why?" he snarls, moving his horse closer to my own. "These are not your people. You have no claim to them, no vow to the country. You would risk your life for all of them? I cannot watch you during this battle."

I have no answer to his question. I don't know why I have to do this, but staying behind doesn't feel right. "If you are as important as Gandalf says," Aragorn tells me, more gently this time, "Then I cannot allow you into this fight untrained. Stay with Eowyn, keep the women and children calm. That is where you belong now."

Reluctantly, I hold Theybrush back as Aragorn rides off with the Rohirim. Back at the group, Eowyn instructs her people away from the battle, moving towards Helm's Deep. I do my best to help her keep them calm as we move them over the banks of the Riddermark.

The barking sounds of the Wargs haunt me as I hope the battle goes as planned without me there.

* * *

Within a matter of hours, we've made it to the Hornburg. It always kind of annoyed me how Peter Jackson mistook the Hornburg for Helm's Deep. Helm's Deep is just a river that flows through the Hornburg. The structure of the ravine is not Helm's Deep, just the ravine itself.

But I don't voice my opinions as I help Eowyn move the women, children, and elderly behind the walls. Everyone expresses cries of joy that the journey is now over. But no one is calm just yet. The men have still not returned from the battle.

Inside there is already tons of people crammed into the Hornburg, I'm guessing they're just more people from Rohan whose homes had been destroyed by the Wildmen. Plenty of them were men and many of the men were suited for battle.

"My lady, may I take your horse to the stables?" one of them asks me. I hop off of Theybrush's back and hand him the reins. My sword, bow, and quiver are already strapped to my body.

I head through the maze of the Hornburg, looking for Eowyn. I find her unloading carts of horses we had brought with us to carry food. "Where is the rest?" she asks an older gentleman.

"This is all we have, my lady," he tells her.

"Take it to the caves."

Fro up on the perch of the gate, a man cries "Make way for the king!" And Eowyn bolts to the drawbridge. I follow her, hoping everything happened the way it was supposed to. Aragorn was supposed to fall off a cliff and survive.

Eowyn finds Theoden almost immediately and runs to him. "So few," she says, looking at his party. "So few of you have returned."

"Our people are safe," Theoden says, helping another rider off his horse. "We have paid for it with many lives."

I feel a tap on my lower back. Gimli is there, his helmet off of his head. His face is somber. "My lady," he says. "Aragorn, he fell. I'm so sorry, my lady."

I know I should act sad, but I can't. For one thing, I know Aragorn isn't really dead. For another, this desperately had to happen. Maybe I was worrying too much. Without me being there, maybe the story had a better chance of staying on track anyways.

I nod at the Dwarf and am spared a need to reply when Eowyn comes over. "Lord Aragorn," she asks. "Where is he?"

Gimli tells her the news as I move away. I can't fake grief well enough for this. I don't know how.

* * *

 _A/N: New chapter. I'm really trying do develop a solid friendship with Eowyn at this point. I've had some people ask me if things are going to start changing, and don't worry, some serious mayhem is in store for the future with Rachel. As for Kristen and Claire...well keep reading._

 _Don't forget to shoot me a review! It's the only way I know for sure I'm writing a story my readers appreciate!_


	8. Claire: Over the Trees

I'm so bored, I could kill myself.

I was so excited to land in this part of the story, with Merry and Pippin and Treebeard. It's honestly my favorite part of the tales.

But dear god, is it dull.

I've been perched on Treebeard's head almost constantly for about a week now. At least I think it's been a week. The Hobbits haven't been keeping track and when I asked Treebeard, he let out a willowy laugh. The counting of one week was far beyond his thousands of years.

And so, the four of us used our insane amount of spare time to tell tales. While I made it clear to the Hobbits I wasn't going to answer any questions about my world, I had indulged them with a few fairy tales. They particularly liked _Jack and the Beanstalk_ and I had no clue why.

They told me tales of Bilbo Baggins that had been told to them throughout their childhood. Of course, I've read _The Hobbit_ six or seven times, but there's something about hearing the tale from actual characters of the story.

One morning, I was in the middle of _Cinderella_ (the good one, _Grimm's Fairy Tales_. Not the boring, cute, Disney one) when Pippin interrupted me.

"Look, there's smoke to the south!"

"There is always smoke rising from Isengard these days," Treebeard told us. "There was a time when Saruman would walk in my woods, but now he has a mind of metal and wheels. He no longer cares for growing things."

The Hobbits climbed up to Treebeard's head where I was perched. Over the tips of the trees, I could see the tower of Isengard and the thousands of Orcs that littered his front yard. I had long suspected that if Gandalf was right and Rachel and Kristen were indeed stuck in Middle-earth with me, then one of them would be with Frodo, Sam, and the Ring, and the other would be with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli with the men of Rohan.

My favorite character was Treebeard, look where I ended up. Rachel's is Eowyn. I don't know if Kristen had even picked a favorite after finishing the first movie. If we all ended up with our favorite characters, there's a chance Rachel and Kristen could be together, in which case I will be severely pissed.

I just wish I had more information.

And now I feel greedy for wishing that. I already have much more information of the future than anyone else, except Rachel. It's the present that worries me.

I try to wonder if there's anywhere else they could have ended up, and all I've got it Rivendell with Arwen and Elrond, or over in Isengard with Saruman and Grima Wormtongue.

I really hope my friends aren't anywhere near that hell-zone over the trees.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so my internet is being really shotty today, and I'm finally on summer break, so I've got a lot of time on my hands so I suspect a lot of chapters coming up very fast. Enjoy! Sorry about the short chapters with Claire, but there's really not much that happens in this part of the story. I suspect when we make it to the Battle of Isengard, I'll have a chance to flesh her out more. Don't forget to shoot me a review! I love to know what you guys are thinking!


	9. Kristen: The Ring and the Seer

They had placed a bag over my head, only speaking to tell me when to walk. I didn't know what happened to the Hobbits, but I was a little less concerned for them now.

The gash on my head started to trickle blood down my face without the pressure from my sleeve. It was really warm and really gross. Eventually the sun started to fade, though, and the hotness inside the bag seemed to break slightly. The blood flow had long since clotted, but now the trickle of it had crusted over my face, making it crack every time I blinked.

Around me I heard the splashing of water, like a waterfall. I was thrust onto a hard surface and forced to sit. "Stay," a menacing voice told me, and I didn't argue. I was already in somewhat of a shock. I mean, you would be too if you landed in a fictional universe.

I sat with the hood over my head, doing my best not to move the muscles on my face too much. The dried blood was really annoying. Around me I heard whispers that I couldn't decipher. It felt like I had waited for an hour before the hood was yanked off of my head.

The sudden light revealed the handsome leader from before. He stood above me, out of his armor and in a light tunic with a vest over it. "You said you were no spy," he says, sitting down in front of me. "If you are not a spy, then who are you?"

"Kristen Logan," I said.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm from South Carolina."

The handsome man looked confused. "I do not know of any place in Middle-earth that calls itself 'South Carolina'."

"It's not in Middle-earth. It's in…regular Earth. The planet."

"Why do you speak to me in riddles?"

I roll my eyes. I guess playing the truth card isn't going to get me anywhere with these people. They don't know anything about my land. But I have no choice. There's no way I can come up with the right lies. I guess I should have watched these movies years ago when Claire and Rachel were first getting into them. But they're so freaking long! "It's not a riddle," I explain. "Everything I've told you is the truth. You can either believe it or you can put that bag back over my head. I don't have the knowledge of your land to lie to you."

The leader nodded. "So you speak the truth?"

"Um, yeah."

"The Halflings in the other chamber have told me they have never seen you before. But if you were travelers, you would have surely met in the forest."

"I told you before, I'm not a traveler. I just woke up in the forest, my forehead bleeding out of control. And I probably look like absolute crap right now—,"

"We can clean your wound, Kristen Logan. Do not fret." The leader reaches behind me and cuts my binds off.

I rub my wrists, raw from the rope. "Why tie me up in the first place?"

"My men are nervous. Any lead, even a false one, is a victory for them. These are dark times for the Men of Gondor."

"Gondor?" I ask. And without thinking, I blurt out, "Like that Boromir guy was from?" In the blink of an eye, a knife is at my throat. "Oh, god! What the hell!"

"You say you are foreign to these lands, yet you speak of my kinsman!" he snarls, the tip of his blade pressing into my throat. My adrenaline is too high to notice if he's drawn blood or not. "You know of Gondor and its former captain. Why have you lied?"

"I didn't lie!" I protest, doing my best to inch my neck away, but his grip is firm. "I could explain, but you wouldn't believe me!"

"The unbelievable truth is better than the false lie! You will tell me what you know, Kristen Logan."

"Alright, just back off, okay?" The leader moved away from my neck, but his hand grasped his sword, which made me gulp. "In my world," I explained. "This is a story."

"What is a story?"

"This," I say, gesturing around the cavern. "Middle-earth. It's a book, a book I never read. But it's like the most popular book of all time. That's how I know about Boromir."

"You speak in riddles again."

"You have storybooks here, right. Tales that never really happened that were written down for amusement?" The leader nodded. "In my world we have the same things. And in my world, your world, this place, those Hobbits are just a story written down for our amusement. And somehow, I fell asleep and ended up here in Middle-earth. I didn't ask for it, I didn't want it to happen. It just did. And now I have to find a way to get back home."

To my great surprise, his hand left his sword. His knife went back into his boot. "There are rumors," the handsome captain said. "Rumors of a young maiden who arrived in Rohan with odd clothes, a strange name, and a foreign dialect."

I literally felt my heart stop for about four beats as the captain paused. "What is her name?" I asked. I hoped, prayed…and at the same time I wished for the opposite.

"They call her Rachel, Daughter of John. She rides with the people of Rohan to the refuge of Helm's Deep in the company of King Theoden."

I let out the deep breath I was holding. "You've got to be kidding me."

The young man looked confused. "I do not understand. Do you know this name?"

"Know her? She's my best friend! Have you heard about another one? A girl named Claire?" It would make sense. I fell asleep with her and Rachel. They should both be here.

"I have only heard of the one lady."

"Can you get me to her?"

"You say your world holds our lives as a great tale?" I nod. "Then I cannot allow you to leave. Not when you have knowledge of the outcome."

"You can't be serious!" I protested. "Haven't you been paying attention? I haven't read the books! I haven't even seen the movies! I only finished the first one an hour ago. Maybe. I'm not too clear on that…"

"You must understand, Woman of Riddles. With a future-seer in my grasp, Gondor will surely win this war. You, Kristen Logan will come with me to the White City. You will be treated well, no harm will come upon you, that I can promise. I give you my word as Captain of Gondor."

I roll my eyes. "I don't even know your name."

"Faramir, Son of Denathor. Boromir was my brother."

* * *

Faramir brought me to another cavern. Inside was a cot and two more with Hobbits sitting on them—Frodo and Sam. I wondered where Gollum was. I nodded at the Hobbits and sat down on the empty cot. There was also crates of things inside the cave. It seems they had no jail space. Two guards stood at the entrance to the cavern.

This was weird. Speaking to someone I hadn't seen in the movie yet was weird, but I could manage it. But here was Frodo and Sam, two guys I had been following for a film and a half now. And even though I had learned so much about them, I had no idea what to say.

"Did they think you were a spy too?" Sam asked me.

I nodded. "But I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Sam chuckled. "Tell me about it."

Frodo was staring at my head, a puzzled look on his face. It was unnerving. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," I snapped at him.

His puzzled face turned even more confused at my modern-day phrase. "I'm sorry, it's just…How did you come by that wound on your head?"

I reached up and gingerly touched it. One of the soldiers had cleaned it and since the bleeding had stopped, they didn't feel the need to bandage it. "I woke up in the forest with this."

"Mr. Frodo, what is it?"

"Nothing, Sam," Frodo insisted. But I knew there was something he wasn't telling us.

A loud howl sounded out from the echoes in the caves. "What the hell was that?" I asked, jumping slightly.

"It's that Gollum," Sam snapped. "They found him about an hour ago and he hasn't shut up since."

"He's scared and trapped," Frodo defended. Sam just huffed. I know why Frodo keeps Gollum around, even though he freaks me the hell out. If I was carrying the thing that turned someone into whatever Gollum was, I would want to help them. I would want to know that help was possible.

I wonder if, in the end, it was. That Frodo was able to help Gollum after the Ring was destroyed. The Ring was destroyed in the end. I know that much. But beyond that, I'm clueless.

* * *

The Hobbits thought I was asleep, but in reality I knew there was no way sleep was coming. I had no idea where I was, surrounded by fictional characters. Plus, the last time I fell asleep, I ended up here. If I sleep again, I may end up in Star Wars next. Holy hell that would suck. I've never seen those either.

"You can do it, Mr. Frodo. Leave, they'd be none the wiser. Use the Ring, turn invisible, just this once."

"You were right Sam," Frodo mumbled. "You tried to tell me. I'm sorry. The Ring's taking me, Sam. If I put it on, he'll find me. He'll see."

"Mr. Frodo," Sam starts, but he doesn't get to finish.

I hear footsteps walking into the cavern and I jolt up. Faramir walks in. He draws his sword and the Hobbits jump up. I'm further away, so I just try to sink behind a storage barrel. "So, this is the answer to all the riddles. Here is the Wild I have you. Two Halflings and a future-seer. The Ring of Power within my grasp and a host of Men at my call." He moves the tip of his blade to Frodo's chest, shifting the chain that the Ring hangs from, exposing it.

Faramir's eyes hold a look of pure desire, and when I look at the Ring, that's what I see as well. I want it. I don't know why, I don't really even know what it does. I just want it. Surely I could take better care of it than a Hobbit, right?

"A chance for Faramir, Captain of Gondor to show his quality," he mutters.

I keep staring at the Ring. I hadn't realized I had been rising until it was closer to me, closer to my own hand. "No!" Frodo cries, covering it with his own hand and turning away from Faramir.

I shake my head and everything is back to normal. "What the hell was that?" I muttered.

But they ignore me. "Leave him alone!" Sam shouts. "Don't you understand? He's got to destroy it. That's where we're going, into Mordor. To the Mountain of Fire."

A guard comes into the room. "Osgiliath is under attack. The men call for reinforcements."

"Please," Sam continues, ignoring the guard. "It's such a burden. Will you not help him?"

"Captain?" the guard asks.

"Prepare to leave," Faramir tells him. "The Ring will go to Gondor."

* * *

 _A/N: Yay! Another Kristen Chapter! I hope you guys are liking it. The girls' secret is coming out quickly! Next chapter is a Rachel one and I'm expecting it to be a bit longer than some of the others. Big changes are coming to the story, to the point where Rachel and Claire wont have a clue what happens next!_

 _I wanna give a shout-out of one for my readers, CrescentShooter123. She's been reading this story and my others as well and she's super cool for doing so!_

 _As always, send me a review! If you have any requests, I may be able to fit them in! Any questions, concerns, or comments are greatly appreciated!_


	10. Rachel: Training

"Hey you!" I called to Legolas. He was sitting outside the smithy tying feathers to a new stack of arrows. I sat down beside him. "I need your help."

"How can I be of assistance, my lady?"

"Well, first of all you can just call me Rachel. Enough with the 'my lady' stuff."

"As you wish."

"Second, I need you to give me some lessons."

He notices my hand on the hilt of my sword. "I thought the Lady Eowyn was giving you lessons?"

"Yeah, well Theoden has her running errands all over the Hornburg. And after Aragorn, she's not really in the mood. Plus, I need someone who will push me."

"I was also was under the impression the king had asked you to look after the women and children if we were ever to go to battle."

"That's not untrue, but I'm declining. I'm not gonna be stuck in the caves when this place is attacked."

He grins. "You seem so certain that we will be attacked." He pauses before looking up into my face. "You are certain."

I consider denying it, like Gandalf told me too, but I have a feeling that the Elf will understand the bare minimum. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to ask how I know it?" He nods. "Ten thousand Uruk-hai are going to march from Isengard to here within the next few days."

"Ten thousand?" he asks. "That is too great a number."

"I promise you, it's happening. I'm exactly sure when, but they're on their way."

"I'm still not sure I understand, Rachel," Legolas says. "You have very little battle training. Surely you would rather be safe than in the thick of battle."

"I understand what you're saying, but waiting below for an army that may or may not breach the wall is not the kind of person I am. I would rather put myself into the situation than be forced into it. And trust me, I know a bit about being forced into unfortunate situations."

The Elf gives me another long, hard look before standing. "Grab your sword. It is early in the day. We should get to work."

* * *

Four hours later, I'm sore, I'm sweaty, and I'm super hungry, but I keep going. I was right about Legolas. He pushes me much harder than Eowyn, but not hard enough.

"You should take a break," he says, parrying yet another one of my thrusts.

"I'm fine," I say, setting myself up for an attack.

He attempts to disarm me, but I manage to avoid it, taking the attack stance again. "Very good," he praises. "But you are human, not Elfkind like me. You need to rest. Only with patience, as well as persistence will you become a sword-master."

I jab forward and he maneuvers. "I told you, I'm fine."

He makes to disarm me again and he actually manages it this time, my sword flying from my hand and his blade at my throat. "It you were fine, you would have been able to avoid that. Take a break, get some water." He lowers the blade. "Patience and persistence," he says again.

I sigh, going to pick up my sword and sheathing it. I make to walk over to the well of water, but a woman, maybe five years older than me stands closer to me, handing me a goblet. "For you, my lady," she says.

I smile as I take the goblet, draining the room-temperature water fast. I didn't realize how thirsty I was.

"If I may say, my lady, you are very brave to learn the ways of men."

I do a take-back. "The ways of men?" I ask. "I'm sure Eowyn would skewer you alive if she heard you say that."

"The lady Eowyn is a Noblewoman. She knows not the hardships of the common-folk…Not that Lady Eowyn is in anyway disrespectful to her people."

I smile. "What's your name?"

"Maywen, Daughter of Mayon, my lady."

"Maywen, do you want to learn how to fight?"

"I have four children, my lady, and I would do everything I could to learn how to keep them safe."

"Are there other women here who share your opinions?"

"Oh, yes. There are many."

"I've got an idea. Can you get them hear within the hour?"

"Surely, my lady."

"Awesome, I'll be right back." I make to leave before turning back to her. "And Maywen, just call me Rachel. I'm no Noblewoman."

I leave the training grounds and spot Gimli at the base. "You have quite the gathering at your practice, lass," he says to me.

"What are you talking about?"

"You must have been too engrossed with the Elf to notice. Many of the commoners came to watch you practice. They are most impressed."

"Oh, well thanks. That's nice of them. Gimli, have you seen Eowyn."

"Aye, she is in the caves. The lady mourns for Aragorn, something I've noticed you haven't been doing."

That's because I know he's not dead. But I don't say this to Gimli. "I'm going to do something I think he'd appreciate."

"And that would be?"

"Come into the training circle in an hour. You'll see."

* * *

Eowyn was indeed in the caves, slashing her sword expertly through a barrel of horse hay.

"Careful, or it'll fight back," I say, startling her. She almost drops her sword. "You alright?"

"I keep thinking he'll come through the gates any moment," she says. "Did you know him long?"

"Aragorn?" I asks. "Kind of."

"Why have you come here?"

"I have this idea, and I think you're gonna like it." As I explain, her eyes grow from sad to excited with every word.

* * *

Legolas was completely on board. I wasn't sure if he would be, but as it turns out, he loved the idea.

"Okay," I call out to the group of about fifty women in front of me. "You all know why you're here. I know most of you will want to learn sword-fighting, but it takes more than mere hours to achieve mastery. That's not what we're gonna go for. Lady Eowyn will instruct you on basic footwork and defense skills. Legolas and I will instruct you in archery. It won't help you very much in close range, but will help you long enough here at the Hornburg. Let's get going!"

There are indeed about fifty women. We divide them into sections. One for Eowyn to teach them skills with the sword and one for Legolas and myself apiece, to teach bow and arrow. A remaining fourth group works on crafting enough bows for all of these new fighters. We have the groups rotate every hour.

I'm amazed at what I've been able to do. This certainly doesn't happen in the movie or the books, but it definitely should have. I lead my rotating groups though the basics of battle archery, like Legolas had been teaching me. It reminded me so much of working at camp, I was getting a little nostalgic.

As night starts to fall, I notice Theoden enter the edge of the circle, giving me the foulest of looks. "Come here this instant!" he calls to me. I pull my bow around my body as I jog over to him. This can't be good. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

"You had fifty strong citizens who wanted to learn how to fight. So I'm supplying them with the knowledge."

"You dare do this behind my back? And you involve my niece!"

"Yes, I did. My lord, there is nothing wrong here. If these women want to fight, why would you tell them to stay behind?"

"Who will watch their children when they're in battle?"

"Not all of the women are here, only the ones who choose to be. There are plenty of elders to watch the younger children."

"We have armies, Lady Rachel. You would bring in these unpracticed armatures—,"

"But they're not unpracticed!" I yell at him. He glares me down. "All of these women have a right to do as they please and no life is more valuable than another."

"You are naive. You have not seen battle."

"But they have. These women stood by, helpless as their homes and lives were destroyed by the Wildmen. Why would you deny them that chance?"

"Uncle," Eowyn says, stepping forward. "You would not have me face my greatest fear."

"And what is that, child?"

"A cage," she answers. "To sit behind bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valor has gone beyond call or desire."

The king looks at his niece, a sadness in his eyes. "Please, my lord," I beg. "Do not deny these women the chance to protect their children."

He looks out at his people for a long time until…"Proceed," he says. I let out a sigh of relief as the women behind me express their joy. "Come with me," the king tells me, and I follow his away from my students' ears. "This is the second time you have embarrassed me in front of my people. I can promise you there will not be a third. You may continue with your antics. I told you before that you were unwise. My opinion remains the same."

"Good thing it's just your opinion, then," I snap, earning another one of his dark looks. "Good evening, my lord."

* * *

Three days later, their reflexes are better. Their arms are stronger. They can go longer and harder without break. In the evenings, Legolas gives me private lessons of the sword. With every swing, I know I'm improving. I was worried that Eowyn would be mad that I decided to take lessons from Legolas over her, but she wasn't in the slightest. In fact, she would often watch us in the evenings, picking up her own sword and trying some of the moves he taught me.

Afterwards I would go to the chambers that Eowyn and I shared and bathe. The clothes she had given me in Edoras were not suited for fighting, which Maywen had noticed by the second day. And this morning she had supplied me with a pair of leather trousers and a loose-fitting, long sleeved shirt. I wore the brown vest Eowyn had given me over it and the boots she had also given me. I honestly didn't look that bad. But every night I would sleep in the clothes I had come here in. My khakis and purple tank-top. It was like I could go to sleep and I would be back in my apartment in a regular bed, if only just for a moment.

During training on the second day, Theoden came to visit. I had learned by now that if he wanted to speak to you, he would stare you down until you came over to where he was standing. And that is what I did that morning.

"Your band of rebels seems to be doing well," he says to me.

"They're not rebels, sire," I countered. "Just mothers and sisters who want to protect their families."

"Very well. I came here because there's someone you and your Elf friend might like to see up at the front gate."

My eyes widened. "Finally," I mumbled. "Legolas, we're taking a break!" I called over to him. He looked confused, but nodded none the less. He handed the lesson over to one of the men who had decided to help us. The Rohirim were reluctant at first to let their daughters and wives learn to fight, but as families they all had decided that it was the right thing to do.

"What is it?" Legolas asked, jogging over to me.

I smiled. "An old friend of ours is back."

He understood immediately and we moved quickly to the front gate. "You don't seem too surprised," he says to me as we walk.

"Neither do you," I counter, which shuts him up.

Luckily we didn't even have to walk all the way to the gate. Aragorn was near the smithy. Legolas reaches him first, extending his hand to his friend's shoulder and greeting him in Sindarin. Then in English, says "You look terrible,"

This was accurate. In person, Aragorn looks much more beat up than he did on a screen. There are bloody gashes all over his body that had torn through his clothes and scabbed over nastily. His hair hung from his head in sweaty locks. I figured with a good shower, he'd look much better. Legolas hands Aragorn the Evenstar necklace and Aragorn thanks him.

Aragorn notices me next. "I hear you've been busy, my friend."

"Did Theoden tell you?"

"Gimli. And he is most impressed. Though he also informs me that the king is not."

"Well, you and I both know what's marching from Isengard," I say, making his eyes widen. "So Theoden will have to get used to the idea."

"How did you know of the Uruk-hai?" he asks.

"I told her," Legolas says, surprising me. "They are not far, I can see them coming."

Instantly, Aragorn looks more at ease. "We are lucky that you are here, _mellon_." Then the ranger turns to me. "We should speak to the king. But after, I want to see your progress."

I nod and Legolas and I follow him to the throne room. Of course, Theoden already knew Aragorn had arrived, but he still had not heard the news of the Uruk-hai army. I stand beside Legolas as he explains. Gimli shows up too, not the least surprised at Aragorn's news. He must have already told him.

"A great host, you say?" Theoden asks.

"All of Isengard is emptied."

"How many?"

"Ten thousand strong at least."

Theoden turns to the ranger, a look of astonishment on his face. "Ten thousand?"

"It is an army bread for a single purpose. To destroy the world of men. They will be here by nightfall."

"Let them come," Theoden says. Then he turns to me. "I want to see the training you've been doing. Perhaps there is a benefit to what you have been doing."

I lead the king and my friends to the practice circle. Eowyn is still there, guiding sword lessons with a few of the other male soldiers. Then she notices Aragorn and drops her sword, running into his arms. I guess I did nothing to change that plot-line. Aragorn is freaking handsome, after all.

Theoden smiles at his niece before turning back to me. "How much have you been able to teach them?"

"More than the small boys you would have fight in their stead," I counter. "You have thirty boys who can hold swords below in the caves with the women and children if the Uruks breach the wall. All fifty of these women are ready to fight alongside your men, my lord."

"They can all handle a sword?"

"And a bow and arrow."

The king nods. "Very well." He turns to the exit, but not before saying. "You may teach me something yet, Rachel, Daughter of John."

Theoden leads Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, and myself through to the front gate. Eowyn stayed behind to tell the women of their upcoming battle.

At the gate, Theoden tells us of his plan. "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the deeping wall or set foot inside the Hornburg.

"This is no rabble of mindless Orcs," Gimli says from the doorway. "These are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad."

"I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf," the king says. "I know how to defend my own keep."

Theoden leads us upon the top of the wall. "They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn. We've seen it before. Crops can be re-sewn. Homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them."

"They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops or villages, they come to destroy its people, down to the last child," Aragorn tells him.

"What would you have me do?" Theoden asks, pulling him closer. "Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. They are depending on their wives in this battle. If this is to be out end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance."

"Send out riders, my lord. You must call for aid."

"And who will come? Elves? Dwarves? Girls who train other girls against my will? The old alliances are dead. We are not so lucky in our friends as you."

"Gondor will answer."

"Gondor?" The king spits out. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us? Where was Gon—," Theoden sputters off. "No my Lord Aragorn. We are alone."

And he walks away, giving orders to his men. I look up at the sky as a massive horde of crows flows overhead. No, not crows. Crebine from Dundland.

Saruman watches us struggle to fight his armies.

* * *

 _A/N: Alright, a bit of a longer chapter, but it is my favorite so far! I'm absolutely loving where things are headed. As always, send me a review. Really love what you guys are saying about the story!_


	11. Claire: Entmoot

Another three days pass on Treebeard's head, but things have gotten slightly less boring. Merry and Pippin figured out that I'd never held a "real sword" and wanted to teach me. Granted, they didn't know much themselves. I had taken two fencing classes in college, so I knew the basics of that, but it seems their techniques are a bit different. And since we can only practice at night when Treebeard lets us rest, I don't make that much progress.

It also doesn't help that their swords are basically knives to me.

Treebeard woke us early the next morning. "We are almost there my young friends,"

"Almost where?" Merry asked.

"The Ents have not troubled in the lives of Men and Wizards for a very long time. But now, something is about to happen that has not happened for an age. The Entmoot."

"What's that?" Merry asked.

"Tis a gathering."

"A gathering of what?"

But I had already started to look behind me. Out of the forest came more Ents, all different. It was absolutely amazing. "Beech, oak, chestnut, ash," Treebeard praised. "Good, good, good. Many have come. Now we must decide if the Ents will go to war."

He walked us over to the edge of the glade and puts us on the ground. "What about us?" Merry asks.

"Do you speak Entish?" Treebeard asks.

"No,"

"Then you can wait over here, Master Meriadoc. I will let you know what we decide soon."

Treebeard walks away over to the group of Ents making a circle around the glade. "So…what now?" Pippin asks.

"We wait." Merry answers.

I think long and hard about what to do. Ten thousand Uruk-hai have probably already left for Helm's Deep. I'm not sure how I know, but I have a feeling that either Rachel or Kristen is there, stuck at that stupid battle. Gandalf said not to change the story, but if I can hurry it up a bit, that can't really hurt much, can it?

"We're not waiting," I say to Merry and I start walking toward the Entmoot.

"Hold on," Pippin says, grabbing my arm. "We can't interrupt them. What if they decide we're not worth helping it we're rude?"

I look down at the Hobbit and laugh. "Do you know how long it takes to have a conversation in old Entish?"

"No. Do you?"

"They will take until sundown just to say 'good morning'."

"You're exaggerating," Merry says.

"Nope. Dead serious. I can't sit here all day. My friends are out there. So are yours. I need them to move."

I walk across the field to the center of the Entmoot circle. "What are you doing here, Lady Claire?" Treebeard asks.

I point to the other trees. "They speak common tongue, right?"

"Certainly. But you are not an Ent. You do not belong in the Entmoot."

"Well, I am today." I turn my back to Treebeard and face the other Ents. "I know you think that those two are Orcs," I call out to them, pointing at Merry and Pippin. "Well, they're not. Their names are Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took. Do those sound like Orc names to you?" I pause as the Ents all exchange looks of uncertainty. "Right now, Saruman stands at Isengard, a massive army of Orcs at his back and call. He has ordered them to destroy the forest. Thousands of trees are gone. Your friends dead because of the White Wizard. You can't just stand there and debate useless issues. We don't have time for Old Entish. If you don't believe me, you can march South and see the destruction." I turn back to the only one of them I know. "Treebeard. Gandalf said my friends are out there. I don't know where they are, but I can't sit around and do nothing. The Entmoot has to help. March to Isengard, take down Saruman. It must be done."

"How do you know of destruction in the South?" Treebeard asks.

I muster up the only lie I can think of. "Gandalf told me. It's why he sent me with you, to take down Isengard and help stop the Uruk-hai from taking Helm's Deep."

I watch as the Ents look between each other. "Very well, Lady Claire," Treebeard says eventually. "I will take you and the Shirelings South towards Isengard. If Saruman has indeed destroyed my friends, you can be sure the Ents will fight in the war."

I smile as Treebeard grabs me and throws me on his head. I knew I wasn't going to wait all day.

I just hope I didn't screw anything up.

A/N: Okay, so I started my summer job at a sleep-away camp. I only get two hours off a day and I'm not allowed to use electronics on the job. So I'm gonna do my best to update when i can, but it will definitely take longer than usual. Sorry everyone. But I gotta make that money somehow...

Anyway, hope you're still with me! Hope you still love the story.


	12. Rachel: New Arrivals

I watched from below as mothers said goodbye to their children and all I could think of was my own mother. Had any time passed since I had come to Middle-earth back in the real world? And if so, what was my mother thinking right now? I was supposed to come back home after exams for two weeks before heading to my summer job as a camp counselor. Ten days had passed since I'd been here.

My mom never worried about me much. She never cared about what I did with my future as long as it made me happy. She was an army veteran and the only thing she ever objected to was me joining the military in her footsteps.

Now, not only am I joining an army and going to battle, I'm encouraging others to come with me. I know that the Men of Rohan will win this battle with the help of the Lorien Elves and Eomer's Rohirim, but that doesn't mean lives will be spared.

That doesn't mean my life will be spared.

"Haleth," Maywen said to her son. "You must stay below with your grandmother. Watch her. Keep her safe."

"I want to be there with you and Father."

"But you can't. If the Uruks breach the walls you are the last defense of our people. You must try."

I hated hearing this argument. I left for my shared quarters with Eowyn to change into the chain mail that had been sent there.

I hated chain mail. It was heavy and weighed me down. I wish I had practiced while wearing it. Luckily I was being sent with the archers up on the highest towers of the Hornburg so hopefully I didn't have to worry about being weighed down by the chain mail.

Eowyn was already in armor. She was also to be with me on the highest tower by order of the king, even though she was much more suited for the sword. She didn't complain though. She knew not to test her uncle's limits.

I was putting my vest on over the mail when there was a knock on my door. "Come in," I answered.

Legolas walked into the room. "My lady," he greeted.

I sighed, sitting down on my bed. "I don't know why you insist on calling me that. I'm not noble or royalty. I'm basically a commoner."

The Elf just stared at me. "It is a mark of respect," he answered. And that was all he had to say on the matter. "Gimli and I worry about the state of this army."

I nod and slip on my left boot. "I know why. Most of the men are too old. The women are too unpracticed. The weapons are not all that great."

"It is not only the army we worry about," he says. "We are also concerned for you. We find you too reckless, my lady. You enter an army of three hundred, half of which are greatly untrained against the forces of ten thousand Uruk-hai."

I slip on the other boot. "Are you asking me a question?"

"I agreed not to question how you knew of the Uruks. But I must know how you predict a victory for the people of Rohan."

"Who says I predict a victory?"

"My lady, please do not treat me as ignorant."

I turn away from him and start strapping on my sword. "Gandalf warned me not to tell you."

I hear him shift behind me. "If Gandalf has forbid it, then that is accepted. But I must warn you, my lady. Your recklessness had rubbed off on Aragorn. Though there is little victory in sight, he plans his strategy as careless as you do."

I sit back down on my bed, facing the Elf once more. "I really want to tell you what's happening, but I barely know myself."

"Tell me what you can."

I take a deep breath. I don't remember Gandalf telling me to keep my past a secret. Only the future of this story. "I'm afraid if I do, you won't believe me." Legolas just sits there, waiting for my explanation. "Okay. So, I guess I'll start with the fact that I'm not from Middle-earth."

"I've gathered that much."

"Where I come from, this place, Middle-earth? It's a fairy tale. A storybook. And you and Aragorn and Gimli, you're all in it."

"How is this possible?"

"I'm not sure, but Gandalf says Sauron is behind it. He knew he would lose. That Frodo would destroy the Ring." Legolas's eyes widen. "Yeah, I know all about the Ring. But that's not important. Sauron brought me here because when you add new people to a story, the plot changes, no matter what."

"So you are here to help the enemy win?"

"No," I protest, hoping his mind isn't headed in that direction. "Sauron didn't know that I know the story. He didn't know that I would pick your side. He didn't know that I can keep the story on track."

"I have heard you and Gandalf speak. You are not the only one of your kind here in my world."

"No. my friends Kristen and Claire. Claire is with Merry and Pippin. I don't know where Kristen is but Gandalf says she is here."

Before Legolas can absorb all of this information, the long blow of a horn sounds through the stone walls. Instinctively, my head shoots toward it, then back to the Elf, smiling. He looks at me in puzzlement. "That is no Orc horn."

I jump up, running to the gate, hearing the men call to open it. Theoden, Aragorn, and Gimli are there as well, eager for the gift that waits outside.

Two thousand Elves march through the gate, armed and ready for battle. Haldir of Lorien stands at the front, facing Theoden, who is dumbstruck. "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," Haldir says. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago we fought and died together. We come to honor that allegiance."

Aragorn runs up to the Elves and grabs Haldir by the shoulders, giving him a grateful hug. "You are most welcome," he says.

Even Legolas is shocked at our sudden calvary. "This is why you were not worried."

I smile and nod. "Pretty much, yeah."

He nods and grasps the shoulders of his kinsmen. "We are proud to stand alongside Men once more," Haldir says.

* * *

 _A/N: A long pause, but summer work has me on duty about 14 hours a day...not much time to get the creative juices flowing. So I spent my one day off a week vigorusly writing new chapters to update over the next few weeks when I can get to the internet. Many thanks for reading!_


	13. Kristen: Osgiliath Burns

They did not tie my hands. I guess they figured out that there was very little I could do against their size and weapons. They didn't tie up Sam or Frodo either.

As we were lead over a huge hill, what I assume was Gondor became visible. A large cliffside city all in white stone. And below the mountain was a smaller city, smoke rising from its buildings. "Look," one of the soldiers noted. "Osgiliath burns."

Faramir could only stand and watch as the beginnings of his home started to fall. I had no clue what was going on in this part of the story, but I assumed that Orcs had attacked the small town. Beside me, I heard Frodo shuffle.

"The Ring will not save Gondor," he said, looking up at Faramir. "Please. Let me go."

The captain closed his eyes for a moment. "We keep moving," he said painfully.

One of his guards grabbed Frodo and forced him to continue on. "Faramir!" Frodo called. "You must let me go! Faramir!" But the captain only looked on at Osgiliath, his eyes full of pain.

"Did you live there?" I asked him.

His eyes darted in my direction. "I thought you had knowledge of the past."

"Not all of the past. I don't know anything about you. I never actually met Boromir."

"My father is the Steward of Gondor. I grew up in the white city. Osgiliath was a stronghold of Gondor. So no, I did not live there." He looked at Osgiliath a few moments longer until only a few members of or party remained. "Will I ever make my father proud?" he asked me suddenly, his eyes on me now and full of sorrow.

I had no clue what to say. I had no clue Boromir even had a brother. I don't even know if I've seen their father yet or not. But Faramir's eyes were so sad, I couldn't bear to give him another "I don't know."

"All parents feel something for their children. Even if they are unwanted or bad, all parents have a connection with their kids that is impossible to destroy. I don't know your dad. I don't know anything about him. But I doubt you live the rest of your life unable to make him proud."

At this, Faramir grinned. "I know you made all of that up off the top of your head, Lady Kristen, but it is much appreciated. Not many people in your situation would be willing to advise the person who was making them do something they did not want to do."

"Well according to you, my friend Rachel is in Rohan. I don't know how far away that is. As for my friend Claire, I don't even know if she's here, but logically it makes sense that she is. I have no way to get to either of them. So I think I'll stick with you for a while." The party of Gondor men had stopped at the bottom of the hill, waiting for me and Faramir. I hadn't realized we'd been talking for so long. Frodo's eyes had once again become transfixed on my face. "I really wish Frodo would stop staring at me," I said.

"It is the cut on your forehead," Faramir said, and I looked at him curiously. "It is the same width as the Ring of Power. It is like you were cut by the band." I reached up and gingerly touched the clotted wound. "I wouldn't worry about it, my lady," he continues. "Frodo Baggins is obsessed with that Ring. I am sure anything that remotely reminds him of it grabs his curiosity."

I nodded at his comment like it didn't bother me, but at the same time I found myself wondering if it could have actually been the Ring that cut my head.

And if that's the case, it would mean the Ring brought me here, right?

* * *

 _A/N: Don't forget to review!_


	14. Rachel: The Battle of Helm's Deep

I stand near the top of one of the highest towers of the Hornburg between Eowyn and Maywen. Aragorn commands Haldir and his group of Lorien Elves. Theoden commands the Men of Rohan. I can spot Legolas from where I'm standing. And even though rain pours down from the sky, soaking the clothes under my chainmail, I can hear Gimli laugh from that same spot, even if I can't see him under the heads of the super tall Elves.

Eowyn wanted to be down with the swordfighters, but Theoden commanded that she and I stay up the high towers. He didn't want to put her in a high-risk situation. Even though I knew she would run into battle the first chance she got, she wouldn't dare disobey the king when he was being so generous.

The Uruks came out of the forest at the opposite end of the field the Hornburg was positioned in front of. Ten thousand, all bearing the White Hand of Saruman, carrying large weapons and torches to light their way. What struck me first was the shock of the numbers. No way did it look this threatening from a TV screen. But then again, who was I to judge. Before I came here, this was all entertainment. It didn't really matter if the characters died. Sure, I'd be sad, but I'd get over it. You can't get over being stabbed to death by an Uruk-hai.

Eowyn whispered beside me as the troops of Uruks gathered on the field and started their battle chant. I couldn't hear what she was saying. It didn't matter. I had really come to care for Eowyn, but I was just happy for the first time that Kristen and Claire weren't with me. I also was grateful that they didn't know where I was. If they did, I'm sure they'd kill me.

I hear Aragorn call out to the Elves in their language. Gamling called for our raise of arrows. We held our stance until an arrow drawn from a man below my tower released into the crowd of chanting Orcs. I see one of them fall as the arrow cuts through its head. Now they're mad. They start running towards the Hornburg, their weapons raised. I look below my tower at our pitiful arm.

Eomer is on the way, I keep telling myself. Just hold out until Eomer gets here. Two thousand Rohirim and Eomer. I can hold out until then.

I hear Aragorn call for a raise of arrows from the Elves. I keep my own bow drawn, the new muscles from my sword practicing keeping my arms from giving out. The Elves fire and immediately after, I hear Gamling call for our release. I aim and shoot, watching my arrow hit an Orc in the neck.

We are given a Fire at Will and Eowyn and I shoot like crazy as the Uruks fight their way through our fire. They still greatly outnumber us. I don't know how many I've killed, but I hope, for my friends' benefit that it's a lot.

They start raising ladders to climb over the Hornburg's wall. I aim at the ones keeping the ladder secure, before I realize that the ladders are held up by metal prongs that have already embedded themselves into the wall. Aragorn calls for a change of weapons and the people below unsheathe their swords.

I can see Gimli swinging his ax and Legolas hit Orc after Orc with his arrows. Aragorn fights with all his might, knocking fifty of them out with his sword.

I try to aim at the Uruks but it's more difficult now. It's harder to distinguish who is an Orc and who is an Elf or Man. So instead, I pull my focus back to the Orcs still on the field. If we can kill them now, that's less that will make it up the ladders.

Gimli's voice rings out over the fight "Twenty-one, twenty-two, and twenty three…"

They've figured out how to drop the ladders, but as soon as one goes down, another comes back up.

"Rachel!" I hear from below. Aragorn, the size of an ant, calls up to me. "Causeway, at the staircase!"

I look to my left and see them walking up the stairs towards the entrance to the Keep where Theoden stands. "Aim for the causeway!" I call to my archers, turning my own bow on their defense. Our arrows nudge their way through their shields and they fall from the height.

I hear Aragorn calling Legolas's name and I get distracted. In the crowd of Orcs directly below me, One of them runs towards the Hornburg at full speed, carrying a large torch. Oh my god! Saruman's bomb! I completely forgot about Saruman's…

BOOM! And we're falling through the sky as the force of the bomb breaks the tower that we've been posted at.

I land on my back, coughing. It takes me a minute to realize that the only reason I survived that fall was the squishy, shirtless Orc I landed on. I scramble off as fast as I can, grossed out as I am now covered in Orc blood. I hear a swish above me, but someone grabs me across the middle and pulls me away as an Uruk's blade hits the wall and an arrow goes through his head.

Legolas's arm is around me and Haldir is behind him, shooting down the Orcs who have spotted me as an easy target. "Stand up, get your sword," Legolas says to me. I force my shocked arms to grab the handle of my sword and pull it from its sheath. I can still barely breathe, but I engage with an Uruk who tries to swing at me, but I stab him in the gut. "Are you all right?" he asks as the Orc falls in front of me.

"I'll be fine," I yell. "Where are the rest of the women?"

"I do not know. I went to find you first."

And Orc attacks me, but I strike him down. "What about Eowyn?" I ask.

Legolas shoots two more Orcs. "I did not go to find the other women."

I slashed at the Uruks, continuing to fight with him as he fired his arrows. "Are you crazy?" I yell. "What about everyone else?"

"We do not need to have this conversation now," he says. "Get to the Keep. Stay with the King."

I slash down another Orc and turn and run. If Eowyn survived, she'll be at the Keep with Theoden.

As I run up the hill I realize why Legolas sent me to the Keep. The blast made a large hole in the walls of the Hornburg and Orcs were piling in super-fast.

But there was another obstacle. In the explosion, the causeway has made its way up the stairs and to the doors of the Keep. They're bashing on it, trying to get in. A few men above the doors are throwing rocks on the heads of the Orcs. Over the whaling of the Uruks and the bashing of the doors, I can hear Theoden call "Hold them! Brace the doors!"

My bow had flung out of my hands when I fell, so I couldn't start shooting at the causeway. Orcs from the other side of the wall had made it to me, and I had no choice but to use my sword at the ones attacking me. So I fought with all I had.

"Aragorn! Get your men out of there!" I heard Theoden yell over the fight.

An Orc I was about to slice dropped down dead in front of me. "I thought you were supposed to be with the King," Haldir said. He must have killed the Orc.

"I'm a little busy at the moment," I growled, taking down two more.

"Haldir, Rachel!" I heard over my shoulder. Aragorn was motioning to the Keep. "Fall back!" he told us.

Haldir nodded. "Go, my lady," Haldir said. "I will watch your back."

I nodded and took off, running as fast as my legs would carry me, maneuvering around Elves, Men, and Uruk-hai.

Behind me, a voice cried out Haldir's name. Recklessly, I turned and saw him fall, a sword in his back. Aragorn was running towards Haldir's body. I turned back towards the Elf and ran to his side as Aragorn cradled the body, putting his hand on Haldir's heart. I felt so sad, but I couldn't bring myself to cry. This had to happen to send the story forward. I had already changed so much that I was starting to worry if things would be the same. This was my sign that things were still steady.

At least I hoped it was.

In fit of anger, Aragorn growled "Follow me." I ran after him and the next thing I knew, he pulled me over the wall, grabbing one of the ladders and flinging us down into the field. I did my best to follow him as we took down Uruks on our way to a passage into the Keep. We snuck through the opening and up the stairs, my sides cramping up from the lack of air my lungs currently had from the fall.

Eventually we made it. Theoden was holding his arm, some blood showing from out of his armor. The men here were fighting against the Uruks who were forcing their way through the doors. "Aragorn, can you hold them?" the King asked.

"How long do you need?"

"As long as you can give me." The King turned to me, as Aragorn grabbed Gimli and headed out a door. "Where is Eowyn?" he begged.

"I thought she would be here," I said, starting to panic. "I haven't seen her since we fell."

The King drifted for a moment before speaking. "She is fine. I can feel it. I would know if something had happened."

I saw Gimli and Aragorn through the hole in the door, taking down the Orcs that fought the barricade. "Secure the doors!" Theoden called, and men brought in wood to cover the damages. I sheathed my sword and went to help them, passing wood to the men up front. I noticed Maywen picking up a large piece and thanked God that she was alive. Theoden made his way to the door and I heard him shout "Aragorn, Gimli! Get out of there!" As the last piece of wood barricades the door.

Theoden walks over to Gamling, who is standing beside me. "Pull everybody back," he commands. Gamling starts shouting the orders for everyone to hear.

I'm so winded, I can barely stand. I sit down on a piece of stone and wince. My ribs are in a ton of pain. I must not have noticed before through the adrenaline rush. A few of them must be bruised, or even fractured from the fall. "Come, my lady!" Gamling says to me, helping me up. "They will break through any second."

I do my best to run through the pain with Gamling to the throne room of the Hornburg. Everything is a blur as I move.

In the throne room, Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas wait there with the King who kneels above a body on the ground. The adrenaline kicks in again as I spot a bit of wavy, blonde hair. I rush to the King's side where Eowyn's body lies broken and not breathing.

I start to hyperventilate. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to make it, to fight in the battle of Pelenor Fields. She was my friend, my teacher.

How can she be gone?

"My lady?" A voice asks above me. Legolas stands there, his eyes full of sympathy. "My lady, Gamling tells me of your wounds. We cannot mourn the Lady Eowyn while you are injured and a battle draws on."

"The fortress is taken," Theoden snarls. "It is over."

"You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it!" Aragorn says, grabbing bits of wood to barricade the throne room door. "They still defend it! They have died defending it!" he takes a deep breath before continuing. "Is there no other way for the remaining women and children to get out of the caves?" he asks. Theoden stares at Eowyn's body, saying nothing. "Is there no other way?" he asks again.

"There is one passage," Gamling says. "It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk-hai are too many."

"Rachel," Aragorn says, coming up to me. "You must lead the women and children over the mountain pass before the Uruks break through."

"There's no point," I say. I look at Eowyn's body. I've officially ruined the story, just like Gandalf told me not to.

Gandalf…wait a minute. I look at Aragorn. "'Look for my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East." Aragorn understands immediately.

"So much death," The King mutters. "What can Men do against such reckless hate?"

"Ride out with me," Aragorn says. "Ride out and meet them."

The King scoffs. "For death and gory?"

Aragorn's back straightens. "For Rohan."

"For Eowyn," I say, standing up and gritting through the pain in my sides.

"The sun is rising," Gimli says. And I smile. Because it is the fifth day. And Gandalf will come.

"Yes," Theoden says. "Yes! The horn of Helm Hammerhead shall sound in the deep one last time!" he walks over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Let this be the day where we draw swords together," he says. I nod and pull out my own, ready for the fight. "Fell deeds awake. Now for wrath and for ruin and the red dawn!" He mounts a horse as the barricade collapses and the Uruks flood through. Gamling had brought me Theybrush and I mount him, ready for the fight. "Forth Eolendes!" he calls as Aragorn, Legolas, and I ride to the sound of the Hammerhead Horn.

We slash through the Keep. Through the stone walkway, past the blown-up wall, and into the field, meeting the Orcs head-on. Then I hear it. A loud neigh of a horse. I look to the East as Gandalf sits on a bucking Shadowfax, Eomer behind him. "Rohirim!" Eomer calls as the two thousand horses head in our direction, taking down the Uruk-hai like a hurricane of swords and hoofs. "To the King!" they call.

The Orcs are distracted by the sunrise and the new opponents. It all happens so fast as the Orcs realized they've been beaten. We drive them back into the forest, where trees begin to shift and we hear the Uruks scream as the vengeful trees take them down.

We ride back to the Hornburg. As I get off my horse, my ribs screaming in pain, Legolas is there to help me got off. "May I?" he asks. I nod and he helps me take off the chainmail and he feels my side with his long fingers. "You seem to have broken quite a few. And riding Theybrush into battle probably wasn't the best idea."

"What's done is done," I say, as Legolas pulls bandages from his pack. He starts to wrap it tightly around my body. "Eowyn wasn't supposed to die," I say.

"And what does that mean?" he asks me, dropping his focus from my injuries for the first time.

"It means I'm gonna have to take her place."

* * *

 _A/N: A bit of a longer chapter! And a HUGE change. Send me a review, let me know what you think!_


	15. Claire: The Battle of Isengard

"I do not understand what you mean for us to do, Lady Claire," Treebeard said. "The Ents cannot hold back this storm. Ents do not fight in the battles of Men and Orcs. We weather out the times, holding the forests together. This is not our war."

"But it will be," I tell the giant tree. "Once you see for yourselves what Saruman has done, it will become your war."

The Ent said nothing. He only continued south towards Isengard as I had asked, leading the remaining members of the Entmoot behind him. I repositioned myself on his shoulder and closed my eyes.

But not for long. There was a tap on my shoulder. Pippin was there, starting at me oddly. "What's up?" I asked him.

"I understand that your friends are possibly in danger," he said timidly. "But is it possible you're going to too extreme of a length to save them?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're not a part of this world. It's no more your war than the Ents. I guess I just don't understand why you would put a whole race of people in danger to fight a war that isn't yours."

I thought about this for a moment. I knew why I had been brought to Middle-earth, but was it really worth it? What would happen if I died? Would I actually die, or could I go back home? I just didn't know…

"I understand it," Merry said. "The fires of Isengard will spread and the woods of Tuckborough and Buckland will burn and all that was once green and good in this world will be gone. There won't be a Shire. There won't be a Gondor or a Fanghorn Forest. Someone has to do something. Someone has to do the saving." His eyes moved to my face. "That's why you're here, isn't it? You knew about the fires of Isengard. You knew that the Ents would choose not to fight. So you came to help the Free Peoples, didn't you?"

I smiled, because for the first time since coming here, I didn't feel like a waste of space on Treebeard's head. Merry had faith in me, even if Pippin didn't. I had a goal; to save my friends and keep Sauron from getting that Ring.

"Yes," I answered. "Yes, that's why I'm here."

Suddenly, there was a stop in our movement as the sun began to rise. We broke the treeline and heard Treebeard gasp. In front of us was a horrible sight. A large, burned field, ripe with deforestation.

"Many of these trees were my friends," Treebeard said, heartbroken. "Creatures I had known from nut and acorn." I shed a tear for his friends, devastated at the sight of this field. Saruman was a monster. And I had absolutely done the right thing in taking Treebeard here sooner.

"I'm sorry Treebeard," Pippin muttered.

"They had voices of their own," the Ent continued. He looked out into the distance where the Tower of Orthanc stood in the center of Isengard's fortress. "Saruman," Treebeard snarled. "A Wizard should know better!" He pulled back his arms and let out a giant bellow that sounded throughout the forest. Merry, Pippin, and I held onto his branches for dear life as the ground below us shook with Treebeard's anger.

"There is no curse in Elvish, Entish, or the tongues of Men for this treachery."

In the forest behind us, more cries of sorrow and anger sounded. The Ents from the Entmoot had made their way here, plus about two dozen more. "The Ents have business with Isengard tonight. With the rock and stone."

"Yes," Merry muttered.

I looked down at him and smiled. I had been worried for a moment that Merry had lost his spark, but there it was, ready to fight.

"Come my friends," Treebeard said, leading us towards the fortress. "The Ents are going to war. It is likely that we go to our doom. The Last March of the Ents."

All they had to do was step over the wall, bit instead they tore it down, using it's rubble as weapons, squishing Orcs below their feet, throwing the boulders at the large groups. They ripped wood stands apart and threw them into the pit of fire below where the Orcs were being bred. Occasionally Merry and Pippin would throw their own rocks, hitting singular orcs below, but I had crap aim, so I mostly just held onto Treebeard's head and he thrashed and shook.

Something white grabbed my eye, and I jerked my head up at the Tower. There was Saruman, standing there, looking down at his fortress with distress.

The Orcs had started hitting the Ents with fire, and being wood, they caught very quickly. But Treebeard started walking away towards the large wooden dam at the edge of the fortress. "Break the dam!" he called. Ents who weren't on fire started tearing it apart, water squirting out from holes the Ents had made, until the dam was too weak for the strength of the water. "Release the river!"

All at once the dam broke and the river exploded into the fortress, drowning everything in sight. Treebeard planted his feet firmly on the ground as the water rushed up on him, not tall enough to tough the Hobbits and I.

I watched Saruman as the waters rushed into his fortress. His face was scared and he looked so helpless. He watched as the water flew down into his pit, killing all the fire and smoking with the heat. Slowly, he backed up into Orthanc and shut the doors.

I smiled up at the Wizard, thankful that finally, my part in the story wasn't so boring.

Wait till I tell Rachel I've been in a real battle. She won't believe it.


	16. Kristen: The Battle of Osgiliath

Osgiliath was…well it was bleak. And scary. But it definitely wasn't tired. From the hill where I had talked with Faramir I could witness the destruction of the city. Now I was in the middle of it as men in silver armor adorned with trees fought figures that were hard for me to see as they were also covered in armor. Large rocks catapulted into the structure of the small city, causing it to crumble beneath my feet. Arrows flew in from all directions, hitting the armor of the men hard. I did my best to run through the destruction with my head down, but when Faramir was able to lead us to a safe spot, I couldn't calm down.

Never in my life did I think anyone would purposely point at my face with a weapon. I never did anything hard core in real life that would result in this happening. I don't think I've ever even spoken to a police man.

I stood behind Faramir because that's where I felt safest. A man with gray hair down to his shoulders came from behind one of the structures of the city, a host of guards behind him.

"Captain, their numbers are too great," he said to Faramir. "By nightfall we'll be overrun."

"That matters not now," Faramir said. "Take these Halflings to my father. Tell him Faramir sends a mighty gift. It will change our fortunes in this war."

The Hobbits and Gollum were being forced to the other man's side. "What of the Seer, my lord?" one of the guards asked.

Faramir turned his face to mine. I begged him with my eyes, trying to tell him yet again that I wasn't what he thought I was. I didn't have the answers he needed. Faramir took a deep breath. "The lady will—,"

But he was saved from giving a command as Sam called out, "You wanna know what happened to Boromir? You wanna know why your brother died? He tried to take the Ring from Frodo. After swearing an oath to protect him, he tried to kill him! The Ring drove your brother mad!"

"WATCH OUT!" a voice called. Above us a shadow fell, a giant rock flying over Osgiliath and smashing into one of the tallest structures. The tower collapsed and Faramir looked upon this tiny city under his protection as in began to fall.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam said, bringing us back.

"They're here," Frodo mumbled, his eyes pointed at the sky. "They've come."

And then, the most horrible sound I had ever heard ran through my ears. The closest I could describe it to would be a shriek of some kind of animal. "NAZGUL!" Faramir called as his men all ducked and shielded their ears like me.

I closed my eyes. Nazgul, Nazgul… I knew that name. What were they? There were too many creatures to keep track of in this story. Elves, Wizards, Hobbits…What the hell was a Nazgul?

I felt a tug on both of my arms and was pulled behind one of the structures. "Stay with the Hobbits, Kristen Logan," Faramir said. "Stay out of sight."

The shrieking continued and I sat on the ground, pulling my knees to my chin and hugging my legs. Rachel was out there somewhere and I had no clue of knowing what she was getting herself into. Did she know about me? Did she know I was trapped in this dying city with two Hobbits and a guy who thought I could save him from this war? If she did, she didn't do a good job about saving me. I really had no clue what happened in this movie. Was I even close to the end of it? It certainly felt like I had lived out three movies so far. I had been here for days.

"My lady," Sam said, crawling over to me, shouting above the Nazgul's cries. "I thought you were some kind of future-seer. That's why Captain Faramir kept you prisoner. Why did you not warn him of the Wraiths?"

"Wraiths?" I asked, the term jogging a memory. "Ringwraiths?" Then it came to me. "Nazgul are Ringwraiths!' Sam just looked at me like I was insane. "That's what they are! I couldn't remember."

"Y-yes," he stammered. "But about my question—,"

"I'm not a future-seer, Sam. I'm a normal person from a normal world where none of this is possible. Faramir is crazy for thinking I could save him. I didn't know the Wraiths were coming any more than you did." I glanced over at Frodo. "I think he may have known, though."

As soon as I said this, Frodo rose to his feet and started walking, past me and Sam. "What are you doing?" Sam asked, but Frodo said nothing. He didn't even blink an eye as he walked over to a ledge, standing on the edge of it.

From below this…this thing came up to Frodo's level. It was huge and I had absolutely no name for it. It had huge wings and a long, twisting neck that held a face on the end that I had no comparison for, but it was from its mouth that the horrible shrieking sound came. On its back was one of the Ringwraiths from the last movie. It looked exactly the same, its face covered by a hood and darkness.

Sam started to run towards Frodo and I followed, unsure of what to do. I could see Frodo lifting his hand towards the Nazgul, something shiny in his fingers. The Ring. Suddenly, the Ring was all that mattered. If I couldn't have the Ring, neither could the Nazgul. If Frodo didn't want it anymore, than I was more than happy to take it off his hands. In fact, even if he did want it, it wouldn't matter.

I wanted that Ring.

Sam maneuvered around the battle much easier that I, as he was so small. He beat me to Frodo, pulling his friend to the ground. As they fell out of sight, my desire for the Ring vanished, just like it had before. Except this time, my body needed a minute to recover from the power of the Ring.

As I stood there recovering, I didn't notice the men fighting around me run away. I was left in this circle all alone as a shadow covered me. I looked up as the Nazgul and his creature started to descend upon me. This time it wasn't recovery that slowed me down. It was fear.

I stared at the belly of the creature, frozen in terror. Its claws opened up to grab me when…

 _Swish_! An arrow embedded itself into the creature's side, sending it flailing. As soon as it could recover, the creature flew away, towards the darkest part of the sky, taking the Nazgul with it. I sunk to the ground, watching it leave.

"What were you thinking?" A voice asked me, bringing me back. "It would have taken you, and you did nothing."

"The Ring," I muttered. "It was like the Ring wouldn't let me move." I turned my head as Faramir, a bow in his hands, crouched down beside me. He shot the Nazgul's creature. "You saved my life."

He smiled, putting the bow on his back. "I suppose you a truly no Seer, then," he said.

"You've finally figured that out?"

"I do not believe one who knows this 'story', as you put it, would put their own life in the same vicinity as a Nazgul." He paused. "I owe you the greatest of apologies, my lady, for forcing you into this journey when all you wanted was to find your friend and return to your home."

I smiled. "You were only doing what you thought was best for your city. After seeing it for myself, I understand why you did the things you did."

The captain nodded and looked off to the descending staircase that Frodo and Sam fell down. "I should find the Halflings. What I did to them is just as horrible as what I did to you, my lady."

"I think it would be a good idea to let them go. Let them continue on their journey. Let them destroy the Ring."

He smiled and nodded, heading down the staircase. I walked over and stood at the top. I could see the Ring dangling from the chain on Frodo's neck. I wanted it, and I wanted it bad. But I also knew that if Frodo was willing to give it to that creature, it couldn't be all that great to have around.

Frodo and Sam had once again been grabbed by the Gondorians. Gollum was still bound and in the hands of one of the guards. Faramir bent down to the Hobbits' level. "I think we finally understand one another, Frodo Baggins."

The guy with the gray hair came over. "You know the laws of our country, the laws of your father. If you let them go, your life is forfeit."

Faramir rose and looked him straight in the eye. "Then it is forfeit. Release them." He turned back to me. "And the lady Kristen Logan is free as well."

His men dispersed and Gollum was untied. "Follow me," Faramir said. I walked down the staircase as he lead me, the Hobbits, and Gollum further down into the city, where some dams had been broken and it had flooded. He led us to a small sewage area. "This is the old sewer," he explained. "It runs right through the river to the edge of the city. You can find cover in the woods there."

"Captain Faramir, you have shown your quality, sir, at the very highest," Sam said.

Faramir smiled. "The Shire must be great realm, Master Gamgee, where gardeners are held in high honor." He turned to Frodo. "What road will you take?"

"Gollum says there's a path through Minas Morgul that climbs over the mountains."

"Cirith Ungol?" Faramir asked. He made a sharp turn and grabbed Gollum, pinning his to the wall. "Is that its name?"

"No, no!" he denied, but he soon conceded. "Yes!" the creature wailed.

"Frodo," Faramir said, turning back to the Hobbit. "They say a dark terror lies in the depths of Minas Morgul. You cannot go that way."

"It is the only way!" Gollum pleaded, his neck still in Faramir's grasp. "Master says we must go to Mordor, so we must try."

Faramir turned back to Frodo. "I must."

Faramir released his grip on Gollum. "Go Frodo. Go with the good will of all Men."

"Thank you," Frodo said, before turning to the sewer, Sam following him.

Gollum made to follow his master, but Faramir held him back. "May Death find you quickly if you bring them to any harm." The captain tossed the creature into the sewer to follow the Hobbits.

He turned to me. "I would not stop you if you chose to leave with the Halflings. You could get to the woods with them and make for Rohan to find your friend."

I looked Faramir in the eye. "No. No, I don't want anywhere near Frodo. That Ring…it's toxic." I felt the cut on my eyebrow. It had begun to heal, but it still stung to the touch. "Remember what you said about this cut? How it was the same width of the Ring? I think you were right. The further I stay away from that thing, the better."

He nodded. "Then what will you do?"

I looked out at the broken city. "Could…could you take me to your father?"

Faramir looked at me with surprise. "Why would I do that? I have just let you free."

"You said letting the Ring go meant your life is forfeit. That's pretty stupid, if you ask me. Maybe if you brought him a Seer, that wouldn't have to happen."

The captain smiled. "You would do that for me?"

"I would need something in return after, of course."

* * *

 _AN: Thanks for reading! I think the story is coming along quite nicely! don't forget to shoot me a review of what you think! All comments are welcome!_

 _Oh, and thank you Asparagus Queen for your lovely review! It is much appreciated._


	17. Claire: The One Tower

Pretty much all of the Orcs drowned if they hadn't been squished by the Ents' feet. And if they had managed to escape, the only thing that surrounded Isengard was the forest. And…well there was no escaping the trees.

Now I stood in the flooded area outside of Orthanc with Merry and Pippin. Above us, Saruman and Grima Wormtongue stood high up in the tower, looking around at the destruction.

"I wish there was some food in this place," I heard Pippin mumble.

"Good luck trying to find something to eat around here," Merry retorted. "Probably nothing but dead rats or moldy bread."

Suddenly there was a shift in the water as Pippin made a dive. He came up with an apple, ripe and red. Soon, he and Merry were making a trail to a large storage area a couple yards away. I was quite hungry and made to follow them, but suddenly, my feet wouldn't move. I looked down into the water, but couldn't see through to my feet. It was too dirty.

I heard a noise high above and looked up to find Saruman laughing down at me. I felt the water engulf my legs as if it had the ability to apply pressure and the next thing I knew, I was being hoisted up, higher and higher until I could meet the Wizard face to face for the first time.

His white robes, which looked so polished on screen, were actually suffering from years and years of wear and tear. Wrinkles engulfed all of his visible skin, the nasty smile on his face causing the ones on his mouth and eyes to become even more distorted. His white hair and beard flew in the wind and bits of water that held me in the air would splatter onto the silver strands, giving it the appearance of sparking.

Behind him stood Grima Wormtongue, easily Rachel's most detested character of the series. While Saruman's hair flowed in the wind, Grima's was so plastered to the head with grease, it did little more than flop around a bit. He looked exhausted, purple bags lining his red-rimmed eyes, giving him the appearance of a drunk raccoon.

I felt the water move me forward, bringing me closer and closer to the Wizard. Then, all of a sudden, the pressure from the water was gone and it dropped me onto the perch of Orthanc, trapping me up here with Saruman and Grima.

The fall caused me to land in a pencil-dive-like situation, making my knees buckle under solid weight in a less-than-graceful position. And it's not like I'm the most graceful person on the planet either, but I had hoped in front of these villains that I would have a bit more dignity than scraping my knees on Orthanc's floor.

"This is her?" Grima asked, walking towards me as I winced from the fall. "This is the human Lord Sauron sent us?"

"One of three," Saruman said.

"Ah, yes. I had almost forgotten the face of the one who saved my life. The one you call Rachel Collins, my lord."

By now I had recovered and Grima's hand was making his way towards me. I scooted away, fast as possible, putting my back up against the wall. "Such a pretty thing," he sneered. "All that lovely blonde hair."

"Screw off!" I snapped at him. In any other situation, I would have been embarrassed. Flattered, even. But this was coming from Wormtongue, a less than ideal person.

"Such spirit," Saruman noted. "Perhaps though, Grima, you should keep your opinions to yourself. After all, we need her."

"Oh, like hell I'm helping you!" I snapped again. "Gandalf told me all about Sauron's plan. It's not gonna work."

"Gandalf!" Saruman barked. "Gandalf the White is nothing compared to me. Without even a staff I brought you to my presence and I will do the same to keep you here."

"Treebeard won't let you. The Hobbits will notice I'm gone. They'll let him know."

"The Ents are weak. Blinded by their sorrows and sympathy. They do not have the heart to keep prisoners. You can have confidence, my dear Claire Elliott, you will serve the part you were meant to serve."

"What are you talking about? And how do you know my name?"

"My lord sees many things through the palantir," Grima sneered. "He knows of Kristen Logan and Rachel Collins, your companions. The Lord Sauron is very much displeased—,"

"Be quiet, you fool!" Saruman yelled.

But I smiled. "His plan isn't working," I said. "He didn't intend for us to know what to do, how to win the war. And now we can."

"No, no, my dear child, you cannot," Saruman said. "You see, Kristen Logan has sent your Halfling friends to their doom. In the midst of Minas Morgul, they will die and Sauron will have his Ring again. From her position in Gondor, she will certainly change things for the White City. Soon, it will be a city of clouds and rubble."

"Minas Morgul?" I asked. This was confusing. They're supposed to be in Minas Morgul. Frodo, Sam, and Gollum take the pass of Cirith Ungol up the stairs. I mean, Frodo meets Shelob, but Sam saves him…

Then it hit me. Sauron doesn't know what's supposed to happen. He just knows he can't win. And if Kristen is in Gondor and Frodo and Sam are where they need to be without her, there's no way to screw up the most important part of the story…But Sauron and Saruman don't know this…

"So, what is she supposed to do in Gondor?"

Grima smiled cruelly. "Something terrible."

"But why am I here?" I asked. "Why not let me run rampant to mess up your plans?"

"Because you and Rachel Collins have proved…unpredictable," Saruman said. "Instead of helping my lord you have destroyed his armies. Rachel Collins has worked almost tirelessly to defend the country of Rohan. I do not know how the battle at Helm's Deep will play out, my dear Claire Elliott. The chances of survival are quite minimal, but look what you and a couple of Halflings have done to my fortress."

I was so confused. What did he mean Rachel was working tirelessly to defend Rohan? And she had saved Grima's life? She hates Grima! And what about Kristen? Why did she even stay in Gondor? Through the whole first movie all she talked about was how much she loved Frodo and how she would follow Frodo anywhere.

What is going on in Middle-earth?

"So what are you going to do with me?" I asked.

"Just as we are being kept prisoner in this tower, so shall you be. Better to have you locked away where you can do nothing then potentially make things worse for our side of the war."

Grima pounced at that moment, pulling me to my feet and pinning my hands behind my back. "Let go!" I screamed, but he just chuckled.

"Pretty face, blonde hair, and soft skin as well," he whispered into my ear, the stench of his breath almost making me gag. "Such a pity to lock you up."

He led me into the tower and down some stairs, eventually to a small room with a small cot on the floor and no windows, save for the tiny, barred one on the door. Grima shut me in and looked through it, that nasty sneer on his face. "Such a pity," he mumbled before taking off.

I sat down on the cot and shuddered. I remembered Saruman saying the Battle of Helm's Deep was tonight.

If all goes to plan, Rachel will come for me in, at most, two days. Dear God, I hope she can make it through that battle.

* * *

A/N: Well there you go. End of The Two Towers. Wowza, what a ride, huh? I know the timing of all this is a little strange, ending on the night before Helm's Deep even though that happened three chapters ago. Sorry, that wasn't intentional. It just kind of happened. I hope it's not too confusing.

Anyway, I'm thinking I may shake things up a bit in The Return of the King. What does that mean exactly? Idk. Keep reading and reviewing! You guys are awesome!


	18. Eomer: Life and Death

_A/N: Okay, so this is a little different, but I'm excited. I've decided to switch up the POVs and give a few Tolkien characters some limelight. Let's see what's going on with Eomer, shall we?_

* * *

I had been sitting above my sister's body for what must have been hours. My eyes rarely left her face. She had always been a beautiful creature. And my best friend. It had pained me to think that one day a man would steal her from me and I would no longer have her to myself. Never did I think that Death would be the one to take her.

The last moments of the battle where a blur as my uncle cried out for victory. His cry should have been jovial. Instead it was full of pain and I had no inkling why.

And then I was informed. Taken into my uncle's throne room alone where her body rested. I fell to my knees in sorrow and cradled her broken body. Then I carried her to her chambers. I wanted to be alone with my sister. I deserved that much.

Not once had we been disturbed. I moved only to pull a string of hair from her face or pick rubble from her chainmail.

As the sun started to set, in the midst of utter silence, the door to her chambers sounded like a blast behind me, causing me to jump.

She didn't notice me sitting here at first, but when she did, she jumped, startled, her face turning a bright red. I recognized her round face and shoulder length black hair, but I couldn't place as to where I had seen it. She had a healing wound above her eye. She had obviously been one of the women my uncle had allowed to fight in this battle. A foolish decision, but I would never voice that opinion to the king.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. She was young, perhaps younger than Eowyn. "I didn't know they had moved—I'm sorry." And with that she bolted from the room.

I knew not why she had entered my sister's chambers. This was supposed to be a private part of the ravine. No commoners were to enter. And she must have been a commoner, or else I would have known her.

Perhaps it was the restlessness I was beginning to feel. Or maybe the curiosity was too great. I pulled myself onto my legs, stiff and asleep from sitting for hours, and followed the girl into the hall.

She moved slow and with a limp. Yes defiantly one of the female fighters. I could hear footsteps at the other end of the corridor, moving much faster than the girl. I didn't wish to be confronted at this moment and slipped into the arch of a doorway, hiding behind the brick.

"Why are you out of bed?" a male voice asked. This was a voice I recognized. Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. I had encountered him in the Riddermark with three other companions and, finally, I was able to place the girl. Her name was not known to me, but that is where I saw her. She never once spoke, but had had an odd look on her face as if she was suppressing excitement. She had also been adorned in strange clothes and shoes I had never seen before.

"I just wanted my clothes," she said with a huff. Her voice was strange. A dialect I had never heard before. Not often did I travel from the Riddermark, but I often met strangers from all over this world. None sounded quite like she did.

Aragorn let out a chuckle. "You seem to be wearing your clothes, my lady."

"No," she said. Her voice was pained. "These aren't mine. I borrowed them. I wanted…I wanted my clothes. The ones you found me in."

"And for what reason is that, may I ask?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Very well, but please, my lady do not leave the healing house again. If you still wish to accompany us to Isengard tomorrow, you will need your strength and running about the ravine will do you no fortune."

"You and Legolas have got to stop babying me. Gimli is the only one around here who—,"

"Dwarves are reckless creatures. Legolas and I are only trying to progress your healing. We do not mean to… 'baby' you as you say." There was a moment of silence before Aragorn spoke again. "Shall I accompany you back to the healing house?"

"No, I can get there myself." I heard her slow footsteps sound, but they stopped almost as soon as they had started. "Should I say something to the king?" she asked.

Aragorn hesitated. "Perhaps, in this instance, an apology is not needed. You only did what your heart told you was right, Rachel. Eowyn knew what she was doing and Theoden knew the risks of his agreement. For now, let him mourn and let yourself rest."

She said nothing but continued her slow steps. Aragorn's made their way towards me, but the door I was in front of was locked. Soon he stood in front of me. "My lord, Eomer," he said. I straightened my back, determined not to look like the spy I had been. "Forgive me, I did not know you were there."

"Who is that girl?" I asked. There was no hiding my actions. And suddenly, they no longer felt shameful. From what I could infer, this girl had swayed my uncle's mind and she felt it was her fault Eowyn was no longer with me. I wanted to know why.

"She calls herself Rachel, Daughter of John. I've also heard her introduce herself as Rachel Collins. Tis a strange name to you as well, I gather?"

I did not answer his inquiry, even though I agreed. "From where does she hail?"

"You ask many questions of Lady Rachel, Eomer. This leads me to believe you know more than you put on, but believe me when I say, she intends no harm towards the Free Peoples. Gandalf assures me she is here to aid us. We found her in the Riddermark only moments before I met you. I know not where she is from, nor why she bares a strange name or odd tongue. She wanted only for the people of Rohan to succeed in the battle and I believe it is her actions that made it happen. Now she wishes to accompany your uncle and a small party to Isengard, where she believes one of her companions is currently located. Why she thinks this, I know not."

"Why did she enter my sister's chambers unannounced?"

"She and Eowyn had grown quite fond of each other. Rachel had taken up residence in the spare bed of the room. Her only possessions are there." Aragorn shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "Speaking of which. I know Eowyn's body rests in her chambers, but would you permit me to grab Rachel's clothing from the room? A reckless creature she is, but Gandalf put Legolas in charge of her healing. She suffered great wounds in the battle. I feel Legolas's task would prove easier if Rachel had something of her own with her."

I did nothing but gesture down the hallway as the Ranger bid me a nod of the head and went to my sister's chambers. Perhaps the time for mourning had passed for now. My uncle made to go to Isengard where the White Wizard resided. As the leader of the Rohirim, I would do my duty and accompany my king.

Life carries on for the living. And we must leave the dead to their journeys. My mother had told me that after my father's passing. And now I had to tell it to myself.

* * *

"Gandalf received word that Saruman had been imprisoned," my uncle informed me. "From his own fortress of Isengard, he is kept at bay by Ents of the long-faded tales."

"Ents?" I asked, turning towards Mithrandil. "Creatures of myth and legend keeping a Wizard at bay?"

"I speak the truth, dear Eomer. The death of their kinsman awoke them from centuries of rest. Saruman's rath and retribution was swift. I have yet to receive word beyond the capturing of Isengard, but I doubt Saruman would easily be free from his prison."

How the Wizard was receiving this news was unknown to me, but I did trust his word. After all, he led me to my uncle and countrymen when they were at their most dire need. "Then we leave at your command, my lord," I said to Theoden with a bow.

"We will depart shortly. I wish to get to Isengard with haste. But…I wish to put Eowyn to rest."

"Isengard is in the north, Edoras to the south," Gandalf said. "It is a journey in either direction."

The king put his face in his hands. "Saruman is too great a threat to leave him in the hands of the Ents." He let out a deep breath. "Eowyn can wait with the rest of the fallen."

"She would have preferred to have been buried with her comrades," I said, hoping to reassure Theoden. In a slightly selfish way, I didn't want to put Eowyn to rest just yet. The thought of seeing her placed in the tomb of our forbearers was too painful at the moment. I needed more time.

"Then it is decided," Gandalf said, standing from his chair.

"Who will accompany us?" I asked.

"I will, of course. And I hope you would not begrudge my companions as well."

"And who are these companions?"

It was Theoden who answered. "Aragorn and his three cohorts, I assume?"

"Legolas, Gimli, and Rachel," Gandalf clarified.

"Will the lady be well enough to travel by sunrise?" I asked remembering her slow steps from earlier.

"Yes. Do not think of her as fragile as she looks. She's quite the fighter, that one."

At this, Theoden grimaced, rising from his chair. "She is a brave one, but I'm reluctant to allow her to come."

"My lord, Rachel is not to blame for Eowyn's passing. A strong woman she was with a mind of her own. Rachel only did what she felt was necessary to bring Rohan a victory."

I looked between my uncle and the Wizard. I was obviously missing something. "What did the girl do?"

"It was she who recruited the Elf to help train the women to fight," Theoden answered. "She convinced me to allow Eowyn into battle."

Through I had a hundred more questions on the matter, I decided this was enough for now. The pain in Theoden's eyes was too much for me to continue. I could not make him relive this decision he so obviously regretted.

"Eomer," my uncle said. "We leave at sunrise for Isengard. If you wish members of the Rohirim to accompany you, alert them now."

* * *

 _A/N: I hope you guys like this idea. I think it's cool to get other character's opinions of my OCs. As always, send a review and let me know what you think!_


	19. Rachel: The Horsemaster

I hate being sick. Or injured. Or bedridden. All of the above. I mean, no one likes being sick, but I hate it. Like, end my life now, hate it.

What makes it worse is that Legolas will not leave me alone. In an effort to speed up the process of healing my four broken ribs, he's treated me with "Elf medicine". Essentially, it just makes me even more restless then I already am. Every time he leaves my quarters of the healing house, I jump out of bed. I don't care that it's slowing the bones from healing. I just hate laying there with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs.

Not that my trips out of bed have been that exciting. Except for running into Eomer. Seeing Eowyn's body was too exciting for me. I had had my fill of seeing my friend dead. Watching Eomer mourn over her was too much. He looked so miserable.

But as always, Aragorn had caught me and sent me back. I suspected that he also would hate being in my position, so he doesn't get as mad about me bolting as Legolas does, but he still keeps me in bed.

But today, I'm finally getting released from that stupid bed. While I'm not exactly looking forward to riding Theybrush throughout the rough terrain of Fanghorn to Isengard, I'm probably going to see Claire in a few hours. Unless she's run rampant throughout Middle-earth, she's probably running around Orthanc with Merry and Pippin eating good food and celebrating a victory. At least that's what I'm hoping.

I told Gandalf of the supposed victory at Isengard. None of us actually knew what had happened over there, but after my major screw-up I have to believe that Claire has been more faithful to the story then me. She was always the responsible one.

I rose before everyone else, desperate to find my friend, but also because saddling Theybrush would take me about an hour with the pain in my sides.

After spending so much time in the stables, I was beginning to understand the Rohirim's love for horses. They were so smart and strong, but mostly, they were good listeners. After two weeks of having to keep my mouth shut, having to keep secrets from companions I was beginning to consider friends, I told Theybrush everything as I slowly saddled him. How much I missed Kristen and Claire and worried for their safety. How good it felt the first time I had disarmed Legolas. How Gandalf was the only person around here who understood what I was going through, but refused to speak to me about it. How I made the biggest mistake of my life, not just in messing up the story with Eowyn, but how I felt responsible for ending her life. How it was my idea to get her in the battle and my idea to change how things happened regardless of the outcome. But mostly I told him how much I missed my friend and I wondered aloud if I would ever not feel responsible for her death despite everyone around me saying that it wasn't my fault. No one understood.

Theybrush's ears followed me wherever I walked in the stable. He held onto my every word and for that I was grateful. I was grateful to know that I still had one friend here in the Hornburg, even if that friend walked on four legs.

The loud sound of the stable door opening brought me out of my little world with Theybrush. From around the corner, Eomer became visible and I instantly felt my stomach clench with nervousness and guilt, the same I had felt when I disturbed him in Eowyn's chambers.

"Pardon me, my lady," he said briskly. "It seems I am now the one to disturb you."

"Oh, um, you didn't disturb me. I was just, uh, taking to my horse." Damn it, why did I always say the stupidest things.

But Eomer did not look startled by my comment. In fact, he opened the stall of a beautiful white and black spotted horse. "This is Firefoot," Eomer said. "My loyal companion for many years now. He has seen me through horrendous battles. He knows me, perhaps better than any being that walks the Earth."

He stroked Firefoot's mane and looked over at my horse. I suddenly remembered that Eomer had given him to me. We had never spoken a word then. "Theybrush is a fine companion," Eomer continued. "His former master fell in a battle with Orcs about a month before I met you. It pleases me to see him with a new master who treats him with love."

"Um, thank you," was all I could muster. I went back to grooming Theybrush's mane. I don't know why Eomer intimidated me. I think it was still the guilt of Eowyn hanging above me. Did he know it was my fault? Had Theoden spoken ill about me to this Warden of the Mark?

"Will you be comfortable on the ride to Isengard?" he asked me. "The Elf told me of your progressing healing. Many a time I've ridden with broken ribs. Tis an uncomfortable experience."

"I'll be fine," I said.

The horsemaster just chuckled. "They told me you were a reckless sort."

"Yeah, well, 'they' can mind their own business," I snapped. I know I didn't belong in this story. That I talked funny to them and did things I wasn't supposed to do. I didn't care. It wasn't an excuse for Aragorn and Legolas to talk behind my back. Gimli was the only one who kept his mouth shut around here.

"I did not mean to offend you, my lady," Eomer said, going into Firefoot's stall to saddle him. "I believe I misspoke. I do not find you reckless. On the contrary, I find you quite intimidating." At this I dropped Theybrush's brush. All I could do was stare at Eomer, who laughed at the dumbfounded look on my face. "You persuade women to fight in a battle that seemed impossible. You defy the king numerous times, only to end with gaining his respect. And even after a great triumph, you continue your journey, all in the name of friendship. Correct me if I am wrong, but these are your deeds, are they not? Quite an impressive list."

"But…most of that isn't true. Theoden doesn't respect me. He thinks I'm…well to put it in his words 'not yet wise'. And I didn't persuade any of those women. All I did was give them the opportunity to do what they've wanted to do for years. And the battle? It wasn't a great triumph." Before I could start crying I dropped down below the stall walls and grabbed the brush I had dropped. Why did people constantly feel the need to remind me about all this? Why couldn't they understand that I know I screwed up? Just let me deal with that in my own way. Don't punish me any further.

"Forgive me," I heard Eomer mumble. "I did not mean to bask in the rumors of the Hornburg." He paused and I heard the clasping of buckles for Firefoot's saddle. "I hope you find what you're looking for in Isengard, my lady. We will depart in ten minutes."

 _A/N: As always, let me know what you think of the story! We'll be visiting Claire next, so hang on tight for a spat w_ ith Saruman!


	20. Claire: The Enemey's Coucil

At the top of Orthanc, somehow Saruman kept me from moving my feet. He stood across from me, Grima to my side. It had been a whole day and night since he'd brought me up here. I didn't expect Treebeard to notice my absence on his own. Merry and Pippin hopefully as clueless. I had hoped they would tell Treebeard I was missing and he would do something about it. Unfortunately, I was kept in that tiny room and given no food. And it's not like I had a whole lot to eat before I got caught. Also, sitting in that tiny room alerted me to exactly how long it had been since I'd taken a shower. I had splashed around in some rivers on the way to the Entmoot, but I was severely lacking in soap.

Saruman had barely moved all morning, and I suspected it was because he thought Gandalf and the rest of the party were coming to Isengard after the battle. I had asked him numerous times what he planned on doing with me. He had yet to answer any question I threw his way.

But Grima? He was more easily bought. Having only just arrived to the top of the tower, I flashed my blue eyes at him, ignoring every protest of my subconscious, and let out the flirt.

"Oh, Grima?" I whispered. "I'm so worried about what Saruman has planned for me."

He smiled that nasty smile and slunk over to my side. "It does no good to worry, my dear. What he has planned, there is no escaping it. Accept fate as it is."

"So, he not going to use me as a hostage?"

"Hostage? Oh, no. What good would you be as a hostage? No, my lord Saruman intends to get you as close to the One Ring as possible."

I lost my flirty composure as this comment made me utterly confused. "Wait what? Why does he want me near the Ring? Wouldn't that be the complete opposite of what he should want?"

Wormtongue smiled. "Oh, the ignorance of bliss. Tis the Ring that brought you here, Lady Claire. The Ring is always trying new ways to get back to its master, of course. My master even saw your companion Kristen in the palantir—,"

"GRIMA!" Saruman shouted. "You fool! Keep your mouth shut for once!" Then, the Wizard arched his back suddenly, turning back toward the woods. "They are here."

I couldn't see below very well, since Saruman had me facing away from the edge, but I could hear shifting in the water below me. Loud splashes that were definitely the movement of Treebeard's feet.

"You have fought many wars and slayed many Men, Theoden King!" Saruman called down. "Can we not take council together as we once did? Can we not have peace?"

"We shall have peace," I heard the voice of Theoden call up. "We will have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there! We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hune even as they lie dead against the gates of the Hornburg are avenged! When you hang from gimmets for the sport of your own crows, we shall have peace!"

"Gimmits and Crows!" Saruman yelled. "What do you want Gandalf Greyhelm? Let me guess. The key of Orthanc or perhaps the keys of Barad-dur itself along with the crowns of the seven kings and the staffs of the five Wizards!" He paused, turning his back to them for a moment to wave his staff at me. Suddenly, my worn converse skidded across the obsidian floor to the edge of Orthanc and I could see below for the first time. "Or maybe your heart will foolishly attempt to save a child from a fate she cannot escape?"

All on horseback, I could see familiar characters I knew, and many I had yet to meet. A few bannermen, Aragorn with Pippin on the back of his horse, Eomer and Merry, and Legolas and Gimli the same way. Theoden and Gandalf were at the front of the group. But towards the back with the bannerman was a familiar tuft of black hair on a chestnut horse.

"Rachel?" I called.

"Holy crap!" I heard her call. Yup, definitely Rachel. "What the hell? How'd you get caught in this mess?"

"His fault," I said, pointing to Saruman.

"Silence!" he barked at me.

Gandalf continued. "Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them, Saruman. You are deep in the enemy's council."

"So you come here for information?" Saruman asked with a smile. "I have some for you." From inside his robes, he pulled out the pilantir, and I could see bits of picture that looked like flame as he held it. "Something festers in the heart of Middle-earth, something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now, he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon. You are all going to die. But you know this, don't you Gandalf? You cannot think this Ranger will ever sit on the throne of Gondor now that three destiny-changers are here. This exile ripped from the shadows will never become king when the three humans have done their duty to the Ring." Saruman turned to me now. "Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those who are closest to him. Those he professes to love." He turned back to Gandalf. "Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the Halfling before you sent him to his doom? The path can only lead to death."

"I've heard enough!" Gimli shouted before mumbling something to Legolas, who in turn reached behind his back for an arrow, slowly.

"No," Gandalf said, stopping the Elf. "Come down, Saruman. Bring Claire and your life will be spared!"

"Save your pity and your mercy! I have no use for it!" Suddenly, Saruman nudged the tip of his staff towards the group below and a fireball hot out the end, covering Gandalf in flame. But, of course it didn't do anything. Gandalf just absorbed the flame.

"Saruman!" he called. "Your staff is broken!" And with that, it spontaneously combusted in his hand and I could move my feet again. I would have tried to run, but Grima was still behind me. He made his face visible to the group below for the first time.

"Grima!" Theoden called. "You need not follow him. You were not always as you are now. You were once a Man of Rohan!"

"A Man of Rohan," Saruman jested. "What is Rohan but a thatched barn where beggarts drink and reek and lie on the floor with the dogs? Victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Theoden Horsemaster, a lesser son of greater rulers."

"Grima," Theoden continued. "Come now. Be free of him."

"Free! He will never be free!"

"No!" Grima called.

"Cur!" Saruman shouted and slapped him across the face. Grima landed against me and I pushed him back up.

"Saruman!" Gandalf called again. "You are deep in the enemy's council. Tell us what you know!"

"You withdraw your guard and I will tell you where your doom will be decided." But negotiations didn't go further than that. Grima pulled a knife out of his robes and stabbed Saruman in the back. An arrow came from below and hit Grima in the chest. All I could do was grip the pillar behind me as Grima fell to the floor and Saruman fell to the ground, landing on a water wheel and pulled underwater.

"Are you okay, Claire?" Rachel called up.

"Yeah," I said, my voice a little shaky as Saruman's feet disappeared. "Can I come down, now?"

"Step off the edge, my dear," Gandalf called. "I will guide you to the ground."

I hesitantly put a foot out off of Orthanc and felt a solid surface in the air. It was like taking an invisible staircase down to the ground. Gandalf was telling Theoden to send word to his allies of Sauron's upcoming attacks. I didn't care, though. Rachel was getting off of her horse and wading towards me through the water. When I was close enough to the ground, I jumped in, working my way into her arms.

Not once in two weeks had I been given a proper hug. I noticed her wincing when I put my arms around her sides, but I didn't care if I was hugging too tight.

I finally had my friend back.

"Okay, I really missed you and I love you and all," Rachel breathed. "But I have, like four broken ribs right now."

I jumped away, but she laughed at my face. "How the hell did that happen?" I asked.

Suddenly, her face dropped into sadness. "I really screwed up, Claire. I need to tell you about it," I noticed her eyes flash over to Eomer. "But I can't right now. When we ride to Edoras tonight…" she trailed off and headed back towards her horse. "This is Theybrush," she said, walking him towards me. I gave him a pat on the nose as she mounted him. She looked so different. She was wearing thick, brown, leather pants and hide boots that came up to her knees. Her shirt was off-white with wide sleeves and a vest over it. She also wore a green cloak of Lorien around her shoulders. But it wasn't just the clothes. It was her face mostly. Rachel was a pretty happy person. Now, even though her lips were smiling, her eyes were sad. What did she do that was so bad?

Behind me, Pippin had picked the pilantir out of the water and was giving it to Gandalf before he got back on Aragorn's horse. Now I was the only one in the water. Rachel reached down to me. "You can ride with me as long as you don't grab my sides." I grabbed her hand and she pulled me up onto the horse. No matter how sad she was or how badly she had screwed up, I knew she'd always have my back.

* * *

 _A/N: Yay! Two of them are back together! Now we just need to get back to Kristen! As always, leave a review! I love how much you guys are liking the story! It makes up getting put in a community of "worst stories of middle-earth". Glad to have my own awesome readers!_


	21. Faramir: Ignorance and Insolence

_A/N: this chapter id dedicated to one of my readers, adanethel, who is absolutely obsessed with Faramir. Enjoy!_

* * *

I knew not why Kristen had chosen to help me. She claimed to not know of the relationship between me and my father. Gladly, I would have given her aid to get to Rohan and find her friends, but instead she chose to stay here. I knew this pained the young woman, and I was sad for her. I did not want her to stay in Gondor out of any sense of duty. She owed none to me. I was the one who captured her.

Still, she intrigued me. A person who knew of the past, but not of the future. A person from a different world! It was quite an experience to endure. I loved tales. Always have. Often in my childhood, I would abandon my teachings for tales of lore or adventures in my imagination. To think that there is a place where my story is a great tale intrigued me so and I wished to learn much more.

But preparing for our small journey from Osgiliath to Minas Tirith, Kristen was hesitant to answer any of my inquiries of her homeland. "You wouldn't believe me," she kept saying.

Of course I would believe her! Is her world so far from my own that I would not believe her own tales? It frustrated me so, her aloofness.

Our ride across Pelenor Fields ended up being less then boring, however. "What do you mean you don't know how to ride a horse?" I asked, holding the reins of my own and another I had borrowed for her to ride.

"I just don't. I never learned," she said. She was hesitant in front of them. Not like she was scared, but like she was cautious. "Rachel can ride horses. She worked at a summer camp. I didn't. I'm not a horse girl."

"I don't know what a 'summer camp' is, but it sounds like you could have benefitted from it. Horseback riding is quite simple, but I fear our journey across the Field will be more difficult. Nazgul and their Fell Beasts roam the land hoping to find prey. You must learn to ride. It is essential. But I cannot teach you now. Not with a battle raging and Fell Beasts roaming the skies." I handed the reins of the spare horse to one of my soldiers and climbed onto my own. "You can ride with me to my father." I held my hand out for her. "Put your foot in the stirrup and climb aboard. I thought it strange to see a woman in trousers, but perhaps it will aid us both to not have to deal with skirts."

She stood on the ground, her hands on her waist. "It is not weird for women to wear pants. Don't be a Neanderthal."

"A what?"

She rolled her eyes. "Never mind," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling herself onto the back of my saddle.

We began slow, evading the small amount of Orcs that still stood in the small city. "Captain Faramir!" I heard my name called. I brought my horse to a sudden stop and felt Kristen's arms tighten around my stomach. Beregond, one of my most trusted soldiers ran to my side. "Captain, perhaps now is not the best time to leave Osgiliath."

"I ride to Minas Tirith and will return with orders from my father before sunrise tomorrow," I assured him. Beregond looked less than convinced. I knew I was being slightly reckless in leaving, but it seemed that Osgiliath was well defended and would stay that way until I returned. I trusted no one else with Kristen, and it seemed she trusted no one but me. Regardless, she couldn't stay in this city. She knew not how to defend herself. She could not even ride her own horse.

"If you see my son and wife, send them my love," Beregond asked. I nodded before taking off at a great speed, earning a small squeak from Kristen. "This…is really…fast," I heard her say as we left the city, her voice bouncing with the gallop of the horse.

"We must be quick. Fell Beasts could be anywhere." But I had spoken too soon. The loud sound of their horrid screeching came from above as soon as we passed into Pelenor Field. "Hold on to me!" I yelled, kicking my horse, urging him to outrun the monster in the sky. It must not have been the Witch-king on the back of this Beast.

For what seemed like an age, I outran him all the way to the walls of Minas Tirith, Kristen's arms showing a surprising amount of strength for such a small person.

The Gates of Minas Tirith opened for us as we ran through, arrows shooting from the high towers at the Nazgul, sending him back towards Gondor.

I slowed my horse, sending us further and further into the city until we were at the crest of the White Tower of Ecthelion. I dismounted my horse once we reached the apex, helping Kristen down after. The only people were four guards, placed around our country's banner figure. I led Kristen towards the hall and heard her say softly, "Your tree is dying."

"I'm aware, my lady." For someone who claimed to have knowledge of the past, she was quite clueless to our tales. "Tis the third White Tree of Gondor. The first was planted from a fruit stolen by Isildur, who suffered many wounds to obtain it. When the first blossom bloomed on the tree, Isildur's wounds vanished. It is said a White Tree will never bloom in Gondor until a King sits on the throne again."

"Isildur?" she asked. "He's the guy who cut the Ring from Sauron's hand. He could have destroyed the Ring, but instead he chose not to and kept it for himself."

I nodded. "Correct. We hear rumors of Isildur's heir in the Kingdom of Rohan, where your friend, last I heard, presides. Frodo Baggins spoke of him briefly. Aragorn, Son of Arathorn." I turned to look at her face, but she was looking straight ahead. She was such a mystery to me. I could never tell what was going on in her head.

We had reached the hall now, and I opened the long door for her. There were no guards, only my father sitting in the Stewards' chair beside the throne. "My lord," I greeted him. It was always that way with us. My father would find Boromir first, pouring every ounce of love he had into my brother's greeting. By the time he made it to me, the love was wasted. I can't remember the last time I had hugged my father.

"A captain who abandons his post is hardly worthy of the title," Denathor sneered. "What of Osgiliath?"

"The city's defenses hold for the time being."

I stood motionless beside Kristen as my father raised his head for the first time. "I see you hesitate with the news I know you have received."

"Father?"

"Boromir!" he shouted, rising from his chair and pulling out the Horn of Gondor, broken in half. "You ignore the death of your only brother! How dare you show me this insolence! And why have you brought me this child?"

"Hey!" she yelled. "I'm twenty-one, for your information."

"You dare speak out of turn, girl!" Denathor turned back to me. "You bring a child of insolence when you should have brought mourning, or better yet, favorable news in this war! Perhaps you see your brother's death as a way for you to rise in command? No need for mourning from Faramir, for he shall soon have his moment in the sun!"

"I thought you said he was your father," Kristen said to me. She looked incredibly uncomfortable, clutching her stomach and her face turning red. "Can I please get out of here?"

"What is wrong?"

"You didn't say all he would do is yell. I just need to get out of here, please."

"Insolence and weakness," Denathor snarled. "This is why I don't waste my time with women. Get her out of my halls."

"She's here to help," I pleaded. Kristen's breathing was becoming more rapid. "Father, she knows how Boromir died. The plans Mithrandir made for the Ring of Power. She has answers we've been searching for."

"Oh, yes? Does she know of the battle that took place in Helm's Deep of Rohan two nights ago? Does she know of the death of Saruman the White or the Dark Lord's plans of attack? Word was sent from a messenger of Theoden. Sauron plans to attack from both the sea and land. Already Ithilian has been taken. He will take Gondor one city at a time. And here I have a captain, trying to impress me with an ignorant girl instead of doing his duty. Get back to Osgiliath. Do not abandon your post."

"Yes, my lord," I said in defeat, bowing my head. I turned and Kristen followed me all the way back to the apex. "Are you alright?" I asked her. Her color seemed to be coming back now that she was back in the sunlight, though she still clutched her stomach.

"I'll be okay. It's just…how do you deal with that? Why would he speak to his own son like that?"

"As a ruler he must be forceful to get his commands sent forward. Perhaps I am used to his ways by now."

"That doesn't make them okay." She looked back towards the doors of the hall. "What he needs is a good kick in the balls."

I raised an eyebrow, her strange language confusing me once again. "Balls, my lady? I do not understand."

At this she laughed, her arms finally dropping from her torso. She was really a tiny thing. Only about a foot taller than Frodo Baggins, perhaps. When she laughed, her eyes crinkled merrily and her cheeks flushed with a much more inviting color then they had turned in the presence of my father. Her light brown hair bounced with every chortle. "Never mind," she said, recovering from her laughter. She glanced at the tree, her features calming before turning back to me. "I guess you have to go back to Osgiliath?"

"I do."

"What am I supposed to do then? I mean, I can't go with you. I'll just get in the way."

I smiled then, knowing exactly what needed to be done. "Follow me."

I grabbed the reins of my horse and lead her down to the sixth level of Minas Tirith. The Healing Houses were perhaps the best of Men in Middle-earth, seconded only by those of the Elves. Its gardens were lush with vegetation and blossoms. It appeared to be, on the outside, the only place in the city unaffected by the war. That is, until you went inside and saw the men hurt by the battles that raged.

A small boy was sitting by one of the fountains, a toy boat in his hand, carved by wood. Bergil, Son of Beregond, one of my soldiers back at Osgiliath. His mother was one of our healers, and also a skilled horseback rider, having grown up the daughter of a stableman. "Lord Faramir!" Bergil called when he saw me, jumping up from the water. "Where is my papa?"

I smiled at the boy. "Back at Osgiliath. He sends his love." I put my hand on Kristen's shoulder, guiding her forward. "This is the Lady Kristen Logan. I wonder if your mother is around, Bergil? I would like for them to meet."

"She's inside. I will bring her to you," the small boy said, running into the structure of the House.

"What's going on?" Kristen asked. "What am I doing here?"

"Bergil's mother is going to teach you to ride. You be no good to anyone without transportation."

* * *

 _A/N: You know what to do in that pretty white box below ;). Thanks for reading!_


	22. Rachel: The Remeberance Feast Part 1

"You did what?" Claire snapped at me from behind.

"I didn't think anything would happen. I thought I had a hold on everything," I said. We road Theybrush about twenty feet behind the rest of the group. "I was stupid, I know that. But I never intended for things to escalate the way they did."

"Does Gandalf know about this?"

"No. I tried to tell him when I was in the Healing House, but he said he didn't want to know. That the less he knew, the better. All he would let me tell him was what was supposed to happen in Isengard. I guess he just assumes things are the way they're supposed to be."

She paused for a moment. "It's just…Gandalf told you to keep your head down, right? Not to tell anyone anything about what we know of where we came from. I spent two weeks avoiding Merry and Pippin's questions, to the point where they had difficulty trusting me. It wasn't until I lead them to Isengard and they saw I was on their side, they let me off the hook. So why did you do it? Why did you get involved when Gandalf told you to do the complete opposite?"

I stopped Theybrush and jumped off, wincing as I hit the ground. I'd had enough. "I'm sorry," I shouted up at her. "I guess I'm not as perfect as you!" I don't know why I did it. It was so unlike me to fight with Claire. But once I started I couldn't stop. "I'm sorry I would rather have people trust me then be scared of me! I'm sorry I'd rather see a battle where adults fought for their country instead of children! I'm sorry I don't think Tolkien's story is perfect! But honest to God, Claire, I've been beating myself up about this for two days now. No one around here understands why I'm so upset, but not only did I mess up the story, I basically killed the only true friend I've made since showing up in the Riddermark."

She looked shocked. "Rachel, I—,"

"Please get off my horse," was all I could say. I loved Claire and this morning it felt as if I would explode if I didn't see her today. But now as she jumped off Theybrush's saddle, all I wanted was to be left alone.

The rest of the group had made it way far ahead of us. A bannerman who had accompanied us rode back to me and Claire. "Lady Rachel, King Theoden wonders if there is a problem."

"Nothing that the king needs to concern himself with," I told him. "I'm just having difficulty carrying Claire with my injuries."

"The lady can ride with me on my steed, if she wishes," he offered.

"Cool," was all a said before hopping onto Theybrush and galloping back toward the group at a pace that made my ribs scream. Claire looked hurt, but I didn't really care right now. I knew what I had done. I didn't need her berating me for my mistakes.

* * *

So many bodies. So many dead that had been transported from Helm's Deep to Edoras during our journey to Isengard and back. I saw Haldir and the rest of his fallen Lorien Elves given their own area of the burial mounds.

Eowyn was the only person of royalty to die in the battle. Her burial was last, ending at the tombs of the Kings of Rohan. She was to be placed inside beside her cousin Theodred, whom she loved like a brother. Claire didn't come to the funerals. She went to bathe before the remembrance feast Theoden had planned. I stood beside Maywen. Luckily her husband survived and he was one of the Rohirim to carry Eowyn into her tomb. Everywhere, white flowers called Simbemyne floated through the air against the wind. Eomer and a few of the Rohirim carried Eowyn inside and when they came out, the stone door shut with a soft thud.

That was the last I ever saw of my friend.

* * *

"Tonight, we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country," Theoden called, raising his goblet to the crowd of people, who raised their own. "Hail the victorious dead."

"Hail!" the crowd called, simultaneously drinking from their mugs. I called with them, but did not drink from my cup. It was a foamy beer of some kind. Thinking back on what happened the last time I drank, I wasn't quite ready to go through that again. I sat my mug on the table and sat back down on the bench.

Claire was sitting at a bench on the other side of the room. She hadn't looked at me once since the feast had started. Instead she stood with Merry and Pippin, who had already drained their cups and had started on seconds. I noticed Pippin drinking from Claire's cup. She hadn't drank either.

Everyone began socializing and moving from table to table. I remained where I was, staring at the foam in my cup. It took me a minute to realize someone had sat down next to me.

"Lord Eomer," I said, startled. I hated how he kept sneaking up on me.

"The Elf and the Dwarf have engaged in a drinking contest. It is quite something to behold," he said to me. "What did you think of the funeral?"

"I was a lovely ceremony," I said. Wow, I sounded cliché. Was that even a cliché in Middle-earth?

"I am…glad to have put her to rest," Eomer continued. "Aragorn tells me of your friendship. I want to thank you for that. I could not have been easy for her, my banishment and the death of Theodred. She was lucky to have a friend like you, my lady."

I stood up quickly. "I'm sorry, I have to go." My stomach felt like it was about to explode. My nerves seemed to be on fire. I couldn't deal with this. I ran outside to the front entrance of Medusled, wrapping my arms around my body, trying to breathe through the pain in my ribs.

I couldn't look him in the eye. Eomer or Theoden. I wasn't equipped to deal with this kind of guilt. I sank to the ground, gasping for air. Soon, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped, surprised. Legolas was kneeling down beside me, smelling of that foamy beer. "My lady, I saw you run from the hall. What ails you? Is it you injuries?"

I jumped to my feet, backing away from him. "Would it kill you to give me some space for five minutes? All you've done the last two days is breathe down my neck, making sure I stay put in bed. Why can't you just leave me alone!?"

Legolas stood up, but didn't move closer to me. "I am sorry. I did not mean to crowd you. I was only doing what Gandalf asked of me."

"Yeah, that's another thing," I continued. What was with me today? I couldn't stop lashing out at my friends. "What the hell is with him? He won't listen to a word I've said. All he does is gallivant around, not a care in the world that I may have just ruined everything!" I fell to the ground again, my legs giving out. My knees hit the ground hard and my ribs suffered the impact. I didn't care. The pain of guilt was much heavier than my current physical condition.

I watched as his boots slowly made their way over to me. He knelt down, but did not touch me this time. "Is this anything to do with the story you've told me about?"

I felt a tear slip from my eye. "I promised Gandalf…"

"I know. And you've done splendidly at keeping your secrets. I overheard you talking with Lady Claire on the way from Isengard. I did not mean to spy, but I fear my senses were not on their best behavior today. And my lady, you cannot blame yourself for Lady Eowyn's death."

"How can you say that? If hadn't have come here, or changed who fought in the battle, she'd still be alive. She had her whole life ahead of her. She was supposed to be a great warrior, marry a good man, and live in peace for the rest of her life. And because I couldn't keep my mouth shut, all that's changed. I can't look Eomer and Theoden in the eye, knowing that I took Eowyn from them."

"This may be true, but I don't think you've thought about the big picture. What if you had kept your mouth shut and your nose down? You can never know for sure that Eowyn would have lived. In sacrificing her life, I am sure you have saved dozens of children who now run the halls with their families, instead of fighting unexperienced in that battle. The People of Rohan honor not only the dead tonight, but also the living. The people who kept their families alive." He paused, sending a glance back into the hall. "If you are indeed riddled with this much guilt, my lady, do not keep your secrets any longer. Gandalf would not wish to see anyone suffer as you have. You must also not drive those closest to you away. Lady Claire is in much distress after your fight. Eomer sits inside worrying that he might have upset you. Gandalf himself sent me out here to check on you. He worries that the battle may have affected you, not only physically, but mentally. Do not think that any of these people do not care about you.

"Most of all, my lady, you must forgive yourself. Guilt is a strong emotion. Strong enough to destroy those who succumb to it. You know for sure Eowyn would not have died had you not been here. But you are here, by no fault of your own. This is the fault of the Dark Lord. Every day, we work to overcome his malice, and you have done just that with great inspiration, dedication, and leadership. Do not continue to burden yourself, Rachel."

He spoke so eloquently and his voice was so comforting, my panic attack had subsided by the time he finished. Legolas stood and held his hand out for me. I took it and rose back to my feet. "Thank you," I said. "I'm sorry I've been so annoying, running away the whole time when you were just trying to help. You've been a good friend, teaching me to fight and supporting my cause. Thanks, Legolas."

He smiled, letting go of my hand. "That is quite a good start, Rachel."

He led me back into Medusled, giving me one last smile before returning to the festivities. Eomer was serving drinks to his Rohirim, thanking them for their loyalty to the king and to Rohan. When we locked eyes, I smiled and waved, letting him know it was okay now.

He left his party and came over to me, his face worried. "Rachel, I did not mean to upset you—,"

"You didn't," I said, cutting him off. He had no need to apologize. This was my fault. "I am the one who should be sorry, Lord Eomer." Mustering up the courage, I made sure Gandalf was nowhere in sight. "Is there someplace we could talk?"

"What of, my lady?"

I took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something. Something I hope you will not hate me for, or think I'm crazy."

"We can go to the terrace," he said. "Follow me."

* * *

"How can what you are saying be true?" Eomer asked me. "Is this some kind of jest?"

"No!" I said. "This is serious. It's why I was wearing those clothes the day we met." I pulled one of my sneakers from the pack on my back. "Have you ever seen shoes like this? Better yet, any material like this? It's because it's not from anywhere in Arda. It's from my home. You've never met anyone who talks like me, other than Claire? That's because we're from the same place. We're not from here."

He took my shoe from my hand and turned it around in his fingers. "And my life is just a story to you, back in your world?" he asked. "Yet I stand before you, flesh and bone."

"I know. I'm not saying you're not real. What I'm saying is that until Aragorn found me in the Riddermark two weeks ago, I thought you weren't real. Then I was brought here."

"How?"

"Gandalf says it was Sauron." At this Eomer's eyes flashed. "But I'm not here to help him!" I defend. "Gandalf thinks my friends and I were brought here to change what happened in the original story. But Sauron didn't think whoever he brought would know how things were supposed to happen. His plan wasn't thought out well enough to be properly executed."

Eomer continued to fiddle with my shoe. "If you knew what was supposed to happen," he said. "Why did Eowyn's death effect you so?"

We had reached the part I most dreaded telling him. But it's what I needed to tell him the most. "She wasn't supposed to die." The shoe became motionless in Eomer's hand. "And it's all my fault. I should have kept my head down, not made waves with Theoden, but I couldn't stand to see children die when willing and able adults could take their place. Never in a million years did I think I'd be powerful enough to change anything this drastically. I didn't _want_ to change things this drastically."

Eomer didn't respond. He simply held my shoe, staring at it, not looking at me at all. "I'm sorry," I continued. "If I had never come here, it wouldn't have happened, and you would still have your sister. I'm just…I'm sorry, Eomer."

He stood now, crossing the small distance between us and handing me back my shoe. "This is why you have been acting strange around me," he said. It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway.

"Yes. I'm not good with guilt. It's probably my least favorite emotion. And every time I saw you or Theoden, it all came back to me, what I had done. I couldn't live with it."

"I must admit, I found you to be the most interesting person I had ever met, with your strange words and clothing. Your leadership and charisma that I had heard about from Rohirim that remained with the king intrigued me so. In fact, it reminded me of Eowyn. But I cannot forgive you for this. At least not now. To know that there was any chance my sister could have lived makes her death even more painful."

He started to walk away, and I stood up to follow him. "Please, Eomer. I take responsibility for this, but I didn't mean for it to go this far. Eowyn was my friend. I never wanted her to die!"

"But she has died, and it is your fault." He stopped walking right as he reached the door. "Do not tell the king of this, no matter how much your guilt weighs on you. It would surely not end well for you."

And he left me standing in the cold wind of the Mark's night.

* * *

Inside, the party was calming down considerably. Claire was nowhere in sight, but a familiar face was waiting for me.

Gandalf stood clutching his staff, the lump of pilantir in his pocket, seemingly waiting for me. "I see you have been telling the horsemaster of where you truly come from."

I fumbled with excuses before realizing it did no good to lie to Gandalf. "Yes, I did."

"Do not look so guilty, child," he smiled, putting his hands on my shoulder.

"Excuse me?" I asked, completely surprised. "But, you told me not to."

"Your life is your own, Rachel. You must be free to make your own mistakes and learn from them, or savor in the right choices. You mustn't let anyone dictate your life, even me."

"So, you're not mad?"

"Claire has told me of your actions during the Battle of the Hornburg and the unfortunate outcome. Things would have changed wherever you had been, my dear. If you had stayed in the caves, perhaps you may have said something that would have unintentionally persuaded Eowyn to sneak away. We can never know what might have happened if you had tried to lay low. But you cannot blame yourself for being here. You did not ask for it, but it was given to you none the less. You have my support, Rachel, whatever it is you choose to do, as long it is with the intention of helping our side win this war."

"T-thank you, Gandalf."

"There is, however, one thing I do not support."

"Yes?"

"Claire is most distraught. I know you lashed out in frustration and guilt, but she was only doing what she thought was best, as where you. Just because our chosen actions differ from our friends does not mean there isn't a common ground. I sense you two have been in each other's lives for many years. Apologize, Rachel."

It was almost the exact same thing Legolas had said to me. And they were both right.

I needed my friend back.


	23. Claire: The Remembrance Feast Part 2

Rachel left the group almost instantly when we got to Edoras. The city itself was pretty bleak, just like in the movie. People walked around dressed in black, carrying flowers, and crying. Then I remembered that they were burying their dead tonight.

Gandalf led me to one of the guest rooms in Meduseld where he said I could get cleaned up before the feast. I guess I wasn't the only one who thought I smelled bad. It was weird, taking a bath in a tub, but no weirder then splashing around in a creek, trying to get clean with no soap.

I knew why Rachel had gone off on me, but that didn't make it okay. She's a hot head, always has been. But we rarely fought. Honestly, I don't think she's been mad at me since high school, and even then, she was so passive aggressive about it, it was hard to tell if she was even mad.

I sat in the tub for so long thinking about this, I heard the voice of a woman singing in a language I didn't understand. I covered myself with a towel and walked over to the window of the bathroom.

The People of Rohan stood in large packs around a massive stone door way in the distance. I knew Rachel was there amongst that sea of black, but I had no idea where.

I tried to get dressed, but my tee-shirt and overall shorts were so putrid, I just couldn't. So I filled up the tub again, adding soap and soaking them in it. And then I realized, I had no way to dry the clothes. The sun was setting, so I couldn't lay them out. God, I was so stupid sometimes. And it didn't help me focus, having Rachel pissed at me, and in turn, being pissed at Rachel. It took up too much space in my mind.

I grabbed a bigger towel from the pile at the side of the room and walked into the room that had been given to me to bathe. All of the guest rooms of Meduseld had been given to leading visitors from the towns that had been attacked by the Wildmen. Everyone else was to sleep in cots on the floor throughout the hall.

In the wardrobe of the small room, I found a light blue dress. I hoped no one minded that I borrowed it. The material was coarse, not cotton. I had no idea what it was.

Luckily I hadn't thrown my socks in the water. They were bad, probably the smelliest of the clothes, but it didn't matter. I put them back on, not making the same mistake twice and threw on my grey converse.

Through the window, I saw the people returning to the city's gates for the feast. I ran downstairs to the throne room. Merry and Pippin were already there, anxiously awaiting the food. "Claire!" Pippin called when he saw me enter. "Come over here!"

I sat down with the two small Hobbits, smiling. "We're sorry you had to spend the night in Saruman's tower," Merry said. "When we noticed you were gone, Treebeard said he knew where you were but that there was nothing we could do, so we just waited on Gandalf."

"You did the right thing," I said. "I would have hated for anything bad to happen on my account."

"You're our friend, Claire," Merry said, with Pippin nodding. "You saved us from the Orc in the forest and you helped us take down Isengard. If Gandalf hadn't been on his way we would have done anything we could to get you back."

"Really?" I asked, stunned by the Hobbit's sincerity. I smiled, but I also felt guilty. "You can't think that way. In the grand scheme of things, I'm not important at all. I'm not even supposed to be here. You can't risk anything to save me in the future."

They just looked sad and confused. "We didn't mean to upset you," Pippin said.

I smiled. "You didn't. Just remember that you guys come first, okay."

The Hobbits nodded and didn't argue like I thought they would. Everyone was filing into the hall for the feast. When they were all seated, goblets and mugs of ale were passed around to everyone. Theoden stood at his throne, calling for a remembrance from the dead. I lifted my mug and hailed them and took a sip. The taste was so bitter, I gagged. Pippin laughed at me, and I smiled, handing him the mug, which he happily chugged.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. I mostly stayed with Merry and Pippin, who were the only two I knew in Rohan I was not fighting with. They were quite entertaining, singing and dancing for the crowd, who clapped and smiled for them. It was nice to just sit and relax for a moment, and not have to worry about talking trees or evil Wizards.

Gandalf found me soon, a worried look in his eye. "Rachel had just run from the hall in great distress," he said. "I wonder what could be the matter?"

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever it is, I'm sure she wants to be alone with it."

Gandalf looked confused. "I have sent Legolas to check on her. Is there discourse between the two of you? I haven't seen you together since the ride from Isengard."

"She's mad at me because she messed up and needed someone to lash out at."

"'Messed up'? I do not follow."

"Eowyn wasn't supposed to die at the Hornburg. She wasn't supposed to die, period. And Rachel is taking responsibility for it, as she should."

"Why did she not tell me of this?"

"She said she tried, but you didn't want to hear it."

"You are being quite blunt, my dear."

I took a deep breath. "Maybe I'm frustrated."

"At what?"

I shifted in my seat and Gandalf took the one beside me. "I always wanted to come here, to Middle-earth. I'd spend hours upon hours daydreaming of riding with the Fellowship and riding on top of Ents. But now that I've done those things, I guess they aren't quite what I expected."

"Tis a strange fate that you have been given, Claire. And a difficult task. But you must remember, you are not alone. Kristen waits for you somewhere in this realm and you already have Rachel—,"

"Rachel won't even look at me."

"I will talk to Rachel about her actions. But you must remember that Rachel is her own person who must make her own choices. It is not your right to judge her on them. And she is human. She makes mistakes. Time will come to forgive her actions."

* * *

It didn't take long. About two hours later, the party died down and cots were being handed out to sleep in. I was feeling pretty sleepy myself and grabbed my own cot. Rachel was standing at the edge of a table that had been pushed up against a wall, looking right at me. So I walked over to her.

"Hey," she said. "Did you enjoy the party?"

"Is that really what you have to say?"

She looked at her boots. "No. Can we go out on the terrace?"

I nodded and followed her outside. The sky, which I expected to be full of stars was dark and dim, very few stars were visible.

"Claire," she said. "I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean any of it. I guess I just had some pent-up frustration and took it out on you. I really am glad to see you, and know that you're safe. When you were up in Orthanc, I was terrified. I didn't know what Saruman was gonna do with you."

"I guess I just felt like you were putting your own desires ahead of what I thought was the only important thing. But Gandalf was right. You need to be free to make your own decisions and I need to support them."

She smiled and grabbed my shoulders, pulling me into a hug. "I'm sorry," she said again.

I hugged her back gently, keeping her ribs in mind. "I'm sorry too, for judging you."

We sat and talked for about an hour then, filling each other in on what the other had been doing. Rachel's side was much more exciting than mine, whit the battle and the training. She promised to show me some moves in the morning.

We were interrupted by the sound of boots running in our direction. Rachel jumped up and stood in front of me, but it was just Aragorn and Legolas, running into the hall.

Rachel ran after them, and I followed. Inside, Pippin was wrestling with the pilantir on the ground, the Eye of Sauron visible in the black sphere. Merry was calling his name, but Pippin didn't answer. Aragorn grabbed the globe from the Hobbit's hands and thrashed for a moment before letting go. Gandalf was awake now, and he threw a cloth on top of the seeing-stone, stopping it from rolling.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf called, but Pippin was on the ground, his eyes wide and unresponsive. The Wizard knelt down next to him, grabbing his hand and whispering a spell.

Pippin shuddered awake. "Gandalf, forgive me," he whispered.

"What did you see?" Gandalf asked.

"A tree. I saw a white tree in a courtyard of stone. It was dead. The city was burning."

"Minas Tirith? Is that what you saw?"

"I saw—I saw _him_. I could hear his voice in my head."

"What did you tell him? Speak!"

"He asked me my name. I didn't answer. He hurt me."

"What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?"

"He didn't ask about Frodo. He asked me where I was keeping the Ring. I didn't know what to say. The stone was gone then. I couldn't hear him anymore."

"Peregrin Took, you must not tell me a single lie."

"I swear, Gandalf. I swear. Forgive me."

Gandalf said nothing. He looked over at me and Rachel and I knew what he wanted. I nodded, letting him know that Pippin was telling the truth.

Sauron still doesn't know where the Ring is. He thinks that Pippin has it now.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for reading. We'll be going back to Minas Tirith in the next chapter. Send a review and stay tuned!_


	24. Kristen: Gordion and Wendil

I watched from the balcony of the Healing House as Faramir rode away across the plain. I wasn't comfortable in this city with strangers. Before he left, Bergil had come back with his mother.

"Lord Faramir," she said, looking worried. "Is everything alright? Is Beregond..?"

"No, my dear Wendil. Do not fret. He remains in Osgiliath where the enemy's forces are not yet strong."

She let out a deep breath, running a cloth over her fair-skinned forehead. "That is a relief. But I must ask what brings you here, milord?"

"This is a traveler friend of mine I met in the outskirts. She seeks accommodations and riding lessons from Gondor's best rider, if you are willing?"

"Anything for my husband's captain," she said, stepping closer and holding out her hand. "Wendil, milady. Daughter of Wenfren, Stablemaster of Gondor."

I held out my hand. I expected her's to be rough, being a rider and all, but they were soft as silk. "Kristen Logan."

Bergil cut in. "You talk funny," he said. It made me laugh.

"She is a traveler from a distant country and a friend to Gondor," Faramir said.

"'Course the boy didn't mean anything by it," Wendil defended. "Curious mind, this one."

Faramir grabbed his horse by the reins. "I must ride back to Osgiliath. If we can drive out the Orc armies, I should return in a few days, at most."

"Okay," I said. I felt like I should hug him or something. He was doing everything he could to make sure I was comfortable here in this world, his world. But he didn't give me the chance. He gave me a nod and hopped onto his horse, riding out of the garden.

I walked over to the balcony of the Healing House and watched as his small figure, the size of an ant from this height, bolt as fast as lightning across the plain. No Nazgul attacked him this time, at least none until I couldn't see him anymore.

I felt a tug on my sleeve. Bergil was staring up at me. I'm really not good with kids and he was making me nervous just standing there. "What's up?" I asked him.

His eyebrows crinkled and he looked further above my head. "The clouds," he answered. "Why?"

I laughed again. He really was a cute kid, but that didn't make me any less nervous. "I meant what do you want?"

"Why didn't you just say that?" he said. "Where are you from?"

It seemed Faramir was doing his best to keep my secret a secret and I had no clue what to say to Bergil, but I was saved answering when Wendil came to my rescue. "Don't crowd the poor girl, son. She's been out there in Osgiliath with your father. She must have seen a great bit." She looked me up and down. "What kind of material is this?" she asked, pointing at my jeans.

"Denim," I answered. "Don't you have denim here?"

"Don't have any material by that name here, milady. Maybe we could fit you with something better for riding? And maybe a bath. The outskirts must not have been good for cleaning."

"Are you trying to tell me I smell? Because I'm well aware."

Wendil laughed. "Well saves me an embarrassing moment. Come, I'll lead you to the baths and bring you a change of clothes. Maybe then you won't stick out like a sore thumb."

* * *

The bath was so warm and comfortable, I didn't want to leave it. For the first time since coming here, I felt normal. I could close my eyes and imagine that I was back at home, ready for a good night's sleep before class the next morning. Rachel, Claire, and I were juniors. Well, seniors now, actually. We had just finished our spring exams. Rachel was going back to camp in two weeks and Claire was getting her summer job back as a secretary at a law firm. Me? I don't know what I was gonna do for the summer.

I heard a knock on the door, bringing me back to reality. "Lady Kristen? I have your clothes. I'll just leave them on the bed here," Wendil called.

"Um, thanks!" I called back. I pulled the plug at the bottom of the tub and grabbed a towel. I felt better now. Rejuvenated.

Wendil had brought me a pair of brown pants and a long, purple tunic. There was also a matching cloak. It was similar to the clothes that Wendil was wearing. They were loose, but comfortable. And clean. That was the best part.

I left the room and Wendil was waiting for me outside. "Glad to see those fit. I've just spoken to Ioreth, she's one of the healers here, and she's given me the rest of the day off. Let's get started."

* * *

Bergil came with us, but Wendil must have told him to stay out of the way, because he just sat on a bucket in front of an empty stall. Bergil told me on the walk down here that Minas Tirith was divided into seven levels. The first level was the gate of the city and the first three levels housed homes for the commoners. Their family lived on the third level. The fourth level held the barracks where the soldiers trained and weapons and armor were fashioned. The fifth was the stables, where we were now. Sixth was the Houses of Healing above us and seventh, the apex and the Citadel and the White Tower where I had met Denathor.

Since the stables took up an entire level, there was plenty of riding room. I'm not gonna lie, I was a little nervous as Wendil picked out a light brown horse for me to try. She waved me over to its stall.

"This is Gordion, one of my father's favorites. He is not easily startled or frightened, as he has seen much in his years. He is retired from battle, but we use him to train or for trips. Not that we make many trip these days." I hesitated, but she urged me. "Go on, give him a pat."

I stroked his nose gently and watched him blink. "What do I do now?" I asked.

She chuckled. "It isn't an instinct for you, is it? We must saddle him, milady, if he is to be ridden." She waved me over to the equipment hanging on the wall. "Now saddling is a difficult business, but Gordion will be nice and gentle for you. First, you make sure your horse it tied up. Let's him know what you're doing." She grabbed a large pad off its hook. "This here is to cushion his back from the saddle. Go on, throw it on his back. Good girl. Now this here is the saddle." She gave me another one of her up and down looks. "You're quite a short one, aren't you? We'll have to adjust the stirrups." She helped me put it on Gordion's back and buckle it down. After the buckles were cinched, she undid his tie and led him out to the riding circle.

"So, you've never ridden before?" she asked.

"No. That's why Faramir wants me to learn."

"Right," she said, giving me a look I couldn't place. "So, you mount the horse, always on the left side. Go on, stick your foot in there and hoist yourself up. Good."

She taught me to guide the horse with the reins, how to ride with good posture, and how to keep him calm if he got spooked. It really was a great time. Wendil was a good teacher and Bergil was an even better audience, cheering me on whenever I did something right.

Bergil's head began to droop in a few hours. "That's enough for today, milady. We'll unsaddle and groom the beast, let him sleep for the night."

I hopped off and walked Gordion back to his stall. "How long do you think this will take?" I asked. "For me to get the hang of this?"

"'Get the hang of it'? You mean master?"

"I mean able to practice on my own."

"You seem to be picking it up quickly. Three days, maybe. I'll let you put the saddle on tomorrow for yourself, see if you've got that." She handed me a brush. "Give him a good grooming. He's had a good day. I've got to get Bergil to bed. Come back to the Houses and I'll have a room ready for you."

She began to leave. "Wendil?" I asked. "Do you worry about Beregond? When he's off fighting the Orcs?"

"Course I worry. He's my husband." She smiled then. "I'm smarter than I look, milady. Don't worry about Lord Faramir. He trained under the best Gondor has to offer and fought with his brother Boromir, one of the greatest warriors born to the kingdom since Arathorn King. He is a good captain. He can handle a few Orc armies."

I felt my cheeks blush. "I didn't mean—,"

"I know what you meant. Not to speak out of turn, but he's a fine man. Handsome too. And he cares for you. Wouldn't have asked this favor if he didn't. And I'm happy to do it, milady."

She bowed her head and went to grab Bergil, leaving me standing dumbstruck and confused. I didn't like Faramir. Or did I? It was so confusing. Sure, he was handsome, but I barely knew him. For most of our time spent together, I was his prisoner. That's hardly cause for a romance.

* * *

I trained with Wendil for three more days. By the third, I was saddling Gordion on my own and trotting around without any instruction. Wendil was quite proud. Then, there was yelling from outside the stables.

"Mithrandir! Mithrandir arrives at Minas Tirith with two companions. Open the gate!"

"Who's Mithrandir?" I asked.

Her face turned to worry. "Gandalf Greyhelm. The Great Pilgrim Wizard."

I hopped off Gordion. "What's the matter? Gandalf is a good guy. He's here to help"

"If Mithrandir has entered our realm, things must be grave indeed for Middle-earth," she told me as I tied up Gordion and removed his saddle. "Rarely do we find the Wizard here unless things are serious. A few months ago he was here in the great Library of Kings. To no one he spoke, only searching for answers of the One Ring."

I turned away from her. I knew this, I had seen it in the first movie, but that didn't mean she needed to know about my involvement with the Ring. Still, I wanted to talk to Gandalf. I had a feeling that he could tell me why I was here. Or where Rachel and Claire were. If anyone would know, it would be him. "Where do you think he's headed?" I asked.

"There is no one he would ride so urgently for, other than Lord Denathor. Perhaps he brings news from other countries fighting this war."

"Like Rohan?" I asked. That's where Rachel was last heard to be.

"Perhaps. But what's a traveler like you want to know about the Horse-country?"

I didn't answer her question. I bolted from the stables, running up to the apex. Gandalf and two companions. What if those companions were Rachel and Claire? It was a long shot, but I had to hope.

I needed my friends back.


	25. Rachel: Gandalf and Theoden Have Request

"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes," Gandalf told the King early the next morning. "A fool. But an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring." Everyone was here. Claire and I stood with Merry and Pippin off to the side, while Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas stood in the center of the room with Theoden and Gandalf. "We've been strangely fortunate," he continued. "Pippin saw in the pilantir a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep has shown the enemy one thing: the heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still. Strength, perhaps enough to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return he the Throne of Men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."

"Tell me," Theoden said. "Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?"

"I will go," Aragorn said.

"No!" Gandalf cried.

"They must be warned."

Gandalf walked closer to him. "They will be." Then he started whispering to Aragorn. "Understand this," Gandalf said to the group when he finished his secret. "Things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith, but I won't be going alone."

He turned to my small group, separate from his. "Pippin will accompany me, as will Claire and Rachel. Gondor is where we are needed now."

My jaw dropped. What was he doing? I didn't want to go to Gondor! At least not yet. I started to protest, but Gandalf turned with a sweep of his robes. "We leave in an hour. Make haste," he called.

I ran towards him, out of Meduseld. "Gandalf, wait!" I called.

"My dear, we do not have time. Pack your things, be at the stables."

"Stop!" I yelled. That got his attention. He turned with an angry look in his eye. I guess no one ever really spoke to Gandalf that way. "I'm not going," I said.

"My dear, you must. This is something that has to be done. Pippin saw visions of you, Claire, and a third girl he did not recognize. I assume it was Kristen. I told Pippin to keep this a secret and I did not wish to tell the King, but if Sauron plans to use you and your friends, you are best left with me."

"Gandalf," I said. "You've known all along Sauron had plans for us—,"

"This is untrue. I thought he had merely brought you here to change the story in his favor. Since you cannot do this for him, he has changed his plans."

"You told me last night that I had to be free to make my own choices," I argued. "Whatever Sauron has planned for me and my friends, we can fight against it. This is my choice, Gandalf. I'm not going to Minas Tirith. I'm staying with the people of Rohan."

The old Wizard smiled at me, his eyes no longer angry. "You seem to have found a home here, haven't you?"

"I don't know about that," I said. "But I've definitely found a side I believe in."

He nodded his head. "Very well, my dear. If this is what you truly want."

Someone was yelling my name, disrupting my conversation with Gandalf. "Lady Rachel," he called. It was one of the Riders of Rohan. "King Theoden requests your presence in one of the stables."

"What for?" I asked.

"I know not. I was simply asked to find you."

"Okay," I said, turning back to Gandalf. "Thank you for trusting me. I don't know what I did to deserve it."

"You have shown your quality," he said. "And I believe the King will agree with me." With that, he started walking again, leaving me with the Rider.

"Which stable?" I asked.

"Follow me, my lady."

He started leading me down the hill to the many stables of Edoras. "What's your name?" I asked him.

"Erkenbrand," he answered simply.

"How long have you been a Rider of Rohan?"

"Twenty-eight years this winter, my lady. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious about how this whole esquire thing works. I never really looked into it."

"Oh, I am no longer an esquire," he said. "Riders of Rohan are above esquires."

"Oh," I said. I was going to ask more, but we had reached the stable.

I walked inside and Theoden was waiting for me with Eomer and a magnificent looking grey horse. I recognized her immediately. Windfola, Eowyn's Meara horse. "My lord," I said, making my presence known.

I noticed Eomer looking rather annoyed. He was still…I don't think 'mad' is the word, but he wasn't happy with me. I thought telling him my secret would bring us closer. Everyone had been forgiving me for Eowyn's death. I guess I underestimated what it would mean to the person she was closest to.

"Rachel," Theoden said. "Thank you for coming."

"What are you doing with Windfola?" I asked.

"She has grown rather lonely without her mistress, I'm afraid. Mearas are the most intelligent and strongest of horses, and so loss effects them a hundredfold more than the average beast." He led Windfola out of her stall. "Before the battle, we had our disagreements. But after the feast last night, seeing the faces of all the children you saved, I realize now that you had been wise all along." He handed me Windfola's reins. "I wish for you to have this horse. Eowyn would want her with a friend. I can't think of anyone better deserving."

Eomer's face was stone cold. I could tell he was trying to hide his disagreement. "Thank you, my lord," I said. "But I can't accept this. I have a horse that I love very much. He is a good companion."

"I must see that you accept," The King said. "Eowyn would have wanted this. I ignored her requests in life too often to ignore them again in death."

Seeing the pain in the old man's eyes, I knew I couldn't say no again. "Thank you, my lord."

"Very good. Now, I have taken too much of your time. You have a trip to prepare for."

"Oh, I'm not going," I said. "I wish to stay with the Rohirim, if it's alright with you."

Theoden smiled. "I would like nothing more."

Eomer's face was still as stone.

* * *

Claire was in another stable, her few possessions on her back in a purse. "Where's your stuff?" she asked. "And what's with the new horse. I thought we'd take Theybrush."

"Claire, I'm not going."

She looked at me, dumbstruck. "What are you talking about?"

I took a deep breath, sitting down on a bench. "I can't leave these people. Not yet. What I did, I need to fix it."

"No, you don't!" she said. "You are not fighting the Witch-king! I don't care what you did. It's not your fight. Who says he has to die for us to win the war?"

"I didn't say I was gonna fight the Witch-king. If I have anything to say about it, I won't be the only woman on Pelenor Fields. I didn't say I was gonna do it. But that doesn't mean I'm abandoning these people who've done nothing but give me a home."

"Rachel," she said, sitting beside me. "I just got you back. I've got no clue where Kristen is. How can you just let me leave?"

"I have to. In fact, we're probably safer split apart, if Sauron wants the three of us together. Go to Minas Tirith, see if you can find Kristen. If she was with Frodo and Sam, then she met Faramir. If you do find her, tell her I'm safe and I miss her, okay?"

Claire nodded. I grabbed her shoulders and hugged her as tight as my ribs would allow. I stood, grabbing Windfola's reins and handing them to Claire. "This is Windfola, Eowyn's horse. She's a Meara, like Shadowfax and will be able to keep up with him and Gandalf. You also don't need to know how to ride to ride her. She's smart enough to know the way."

Claire patted Windfola's nose. "Promise me one thing," she said. "If it's between life or death, you better pick the closest path to life. If you or Kirsten didn't make it out of this, I don't know what I'd do."

"The same goes for you," I said.

Gandalf, Merry, and Pippin came through the door. Gandalf picked Pippin up and put him on Shadowfax's back. "How far is it to Minas Tirith?" Pippin asked.

"Three days ride as the Nazgul flies," Gandalf answered. "And you better hope we don't have one of those on our tail."

Merry walked up to him, handing him a small package. "The last of the Longbottom Leaf," Pippin said, surprised.

"I know you've run out. You smoke too much, Pip," Merry joked.

"But we'll see each other soon, won't we?"

Merry didn't answer as Gandalf climbed onto his horse's back. Claire climbed onto Windfola's. "Ride, Shadowfax. Show us the meaning of haste."

And soon, they were off, Windfola following Shadowfax with just as much speed. I could hear Pippin call for Merry. Merry ran from the stables and I followed him, all the way up to the top of a Rohan watchtower. We watched together as our friends rode off into the rolling hills.

"He's always followed me," Merry said. "Everywhere I went. I would get him into the worst sort of trouble."

I smiled. "I've known Claire since we were twelve. Just over nine years. I know that's nowhere close to you and Pippin, but she's one of my best friends. It kills me that I just got her back and now she's leaving."

"Why didn't you go with her?"

I looked down below at the people of Rohan walking about the capital. "Somethings are more important than my greed to be with my friend."

"Is it true what you did?" he asked. "Getting all those women to fight?"

"Half true," I said. "They always wanted to fight. It took no persuasion from me. I just convinced the king it was the right thing to do."

"Do you think he would let me fight for him even though I'm a Hobbit?"

I thought back to the movie, how Theoden named him an esquire, then forced him to stay in Dunharrow. Eowyn was the one who allowed him to fight. But I had changed his mind on some things. Opened up new possibilities. Maybe now, he would be more willing.

* * *

 _A/N: Wowza, what was with this last week. First the traffic stats stopped, then I couldn't log onto my account and update...Glad everything is fixed now (knock on wood). As always, press your clicker on that white box below and leave me your thoughts! Big stuff happening in the next chapter! Keep reading!_


	26. Claire: Hope is Kindled

I was a little nervous about riding a horse all by myself, but Rachel was right. Windfola seemed to know exactly where we were going. Any time Shadowfax made a turn, she followed and kept his pace.

Gandalf said the ride took about three days, but we were making such great progress, it could take less than that. We rarely stopped, only to eat. Windfola continued to run without losing energy and I could sleep on her back without falling off if I tied myself with the reins.

But my buns and calves, though. They probably wouldn't survive.

On the morning of the third day, I heard Gandalf yell to Pippin over the wind and pounding of hooves, "We've just passed into the realm of Gondor."

The terrain was different than the rolling hills of Rohan. It was much flatter here. We were running across a large open field that seemed to stretch for miles. Pelenor Field.

There was also a smell in the air, like smoke and…something else. In the east, the sky was darker and an orange hue shown from the ground. "Is that Mordor?" I called to Gandalf.

"It is. We must be quick to avoid any terror from the Dark City."

But we weren't that lucky. Five minutes later, a horrible screeching sound reached my ears, forcing me to cover them. Above us, a scary-looking creature with a dark figure on its back was approaching us from above. A Nazgul and its Fell Beast.

I gripped Windfola's mane, urging her to go faster, but she was no match for the Nazgul. Its Fell Beast's claws started grabbing me, trying to pull me off of Windfola. I screamed in pure terror and she whinnied and bucked, giving herself momentum so that the Beast let go. I was luckily tied in with the reins, or I would be gone.

Suddenly, there was a beautiful bright light. Gandalf had brought out his staff and was shining it at the Nazgul. The Fell Beast screeched again, but that was the last I heard of it as it flew back to the dark part of the sky.

Windfola stopped running then, taking a minute to recover from the shock, and I was grateful. My heart was pounding so hard, I felt as if it would explode from my chest. What the hell was that? Why did it try to take me?

Gandalf was beside me now. "Are you alright, my dear?"

"I don't know," was all I could think to say. "What did it want? Why did it go after me?"

Pippin looked downright terrified. This may be the only time I've ever caught him speechless. "Alas, these are questions I have no answers to," Gandalf said. "But we must continue to Minas Tirith with haste. We are nearly there. Can you manage it, Claire?"

I nodded. "I think so."

I didn't think it was possible, but Windfola moved even faster this time. Soon, we had crossed the majority of Pelenor, and there it was. Minas Tirith.

It looked much larger in person than it did in the movie. I massive white-stoned city built into the side of a cliff. We rode right up to the gates, which were opened for us. We rode through the city at a slower speed, and through it all, the people of Gondor were pointing at us with looks of surprise on their faces. Everywhere, they muttered "Mithrandir" as we passed.

I would have liked to have seen more of the city, but this was not the time to be a tourist. Soon, we reached the apex and the White Tower of Ecthelion. Gandalf and Pippin dismounted and I followed their lead. When I got off Windfola, I almost fell due to not having used my legs much the last few days. And they screamed in pain from riding, but I grit my teeth and moved.

When we passed the White Tree, Pippin's eyes lit up. "The Tree! Gandalf!"

"Yes, the White Tree of Gondor, the Tree of the King. Lord Denathor, however is not the king. He is a steward only, a caretaker to the throne. Now listen carefully," he paused as we had reached the door, bending down to Pippin. "Lord Denathor is Boromir's father," he turned to me. "I assume you know of Boromir?" I nodded. "To give Denathor news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise. Do not mention Frodo or the Ring. And say nothing of Aragorn either," he made to walk inside, but he paused. "In fact, it's better if you don't speak at all, Peregrin Took."

"What about her?" Pippin asked, motioning to me.

"I'm not saying a word. The less I have to do with this guy, the better." Gandalf nodded and lead us inside.

It was a long, massive hall with statues of kings leading all the way to an equally impressive throne. Below the throne was a smaller chair, on which the gray-headed Denathor sat, his face at his knees.

Rachel will argue to the death that Grima is the most despicable character in these books/movies, but I'll be damned if it isn't actually Denathor. This is a man who literally is mean for spite. Grima honestly wasn't that bad. There's no way he's worse than Denathor, a man who was completely capable of love, but refused to give it. I despised him, and standing in front of him now, my feelings escalate a hundredfold.

"Hail Denathor, Son of Ecthelion. Lord and Steward of Gondor," Gandalf said, bowing before him. "I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with council."

"Perhaps you've come to explain this," Denathor said, raising the Horn of Gondor from his lap, broken in half. "Perhaps you've come to tell me why my son is dead!"

"Boromir died to save us," Pippin said, stepping forward. Gandalf tried to stop him, but the Hobbit stubbornly continued, bowing in front of Denathor. "My kinsmen and me. He fell defending us from many foes. I offer you my service in payment of this debt."

Denathor's mouth twitched. "This is my first command to you. How did you escape and my son did not, as mighty a man as he was?"

"The mightiest man may be slain by one arrow. Boromir was pierced by many."

"Get him up," Gandalf said to me, and I grabbed Pip by the hood of his cloak, pulling him to his feet and back behind Gandalf.

"My lord," he continued. "There will be a time to grieve for Boromir, but it is not now. War is coming. The enemy is at your doorstep. As steward you are charged with the defense of this city. Where are Gondor's armies? You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word to Theoden of Rohan. Light the beacons."

"You think you are wise, Mithrandir? Yet for all your subtleties, you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your right hand you would use me as a shield against Mordor and with your left you would seek to supplant me. I know who rides with Theoden of Rohan. Word has reached me of this Aragorn, Son of Arathorn and I tell you, I will not bow to this Ranger from the north, last of a ragged house long bereft of lordship."

"Authority is not given to you to deny the return of the king, steward!" Gandalf quipped, putting Denathor over the edge.

"Rule of Gondor is mine and no others!"

Gandalf turned and practically ran to the door. Pippin and I followed.

"War has turned him to ambition. He even uses his grief as a cloak!" Gandalf snapped as we exited the tower. "A thousand years this city has stood. Now with the help of a madman, it will fall. The White Tree, the Tree of the King, will never bloom again."

"Why are they still guarding it?" Pippin asked as we passed the Tree and its guards again.

"The guard it because they have hope. Fading hope that one day it will flower and the king will come and this city will be as it once was before it fell into decay. The old wisdom born out of the west was forsaken. Kings made tombs more splendid than the houses of the living and counted the names of their ascents dearer than their sons. Childless lords sat heavily on their thrones. And so the people of Gondor fell into ruin. The line of Kings failed, the White Tree with it. The rule of Gondor was given over to lesser men."

He had lead us to the peak of the apex and was going to continue his speech, but was interrupted by a loud voice. "Look, just let me through. I want to speak to Gandalf."

"We do not allow commoners up to the Tower at this time."

"I'm not a commoner, I'm a person. I don't care about Denathor. I wanna talk to Gandalf."

I knew that voice all too well. So well that I thought I might be imagining it. I ran toward the steps that lead up to the apex, and there she was. "Kristen?"

"Holy crap!" she yelled, pushing past the perplexed guard and running into me, wrapping her arms around my neck. "You're here! I thought you'd be here, but I didn't know for sure! Holy crap is it really you?"

I laughed, hugging her back. "Yeah, it's really me. What are you doing in Gondor?"

"You tell me. Oh, wait, actually, I have a theory."

I let go of the embrace and noticed Gandalf and Pippin had made their way over to us. "There's someone I want you to meet first."

"This must be Kristen," Gandalf said, the twinkling returning to his eyes.

"How does he know my name?" she muttered in my ear and I laughed.

"Oh, I know much more than your name, my dear. But it seems you two have some catching up to do before I enter the conversation."

Boy, did we ever.

* * *

She filled me in on everything. How she had been captured by Faramir and she had no choice but to tell him the truth. How he, Frodo, and Sam knew now. That the Ring had temped her and she let it go, choosing to stay with Faramir after he gave her freedom. He brought her here for safety so he could return to Osgiliath and defend the city. And her singular encounter with Denathor, who treated her like a joke.

I filled her in on my adventures with the Ents and she was ecstatic to hear Rachel was alive. Apparently she knew Rachel was in Middle-earth, but didn't know about me. I also filled her in on Rachel's mistake with Eowyn, which Kristen didn't find nearly as critical as I did.

"Wait, so Rachel is like some kind of warrior now?"

"I guess. I haven't actually seen her fight, but we've both seen her with a bow and arrow. I'm sure she could skewer a couple of Orcs."

We'd been talking for hours, the sun had set and the orange hue of Mordor is what lit us the sky. She'd taken me to the gardens of the Healing Houses and we sat on a bench that looked out onto Pelenor.

Suddenly, a large pillar of green light shot out from the ground near Mordor, shooting into the sky light a giant crack of lightning. "What the hell is that?" Kristen yelled.

"Frodo," I explained. "Frodo pissed off the Nazgul in Minas Morgul."

"Oh, is that all?" she chipped sarcastically.

* * *

The next morning, Kristen had invited me to a riding lesson with her teacher Wendil, but Gandalf had a different plan.

He sent Pippin and I to light the beacons of Minas Tirith. Pippin was a lot more agile than me, getting up to the top of the beacon, but we did it. Soon, the Beacon of Amundine was lit as well. It wouldn't be long and Rachel would be here too.

* * *

 _A/N: Yay! BFFs back together...well almost. Shoot those reviews people! You're all seriously be best readers ever and I wanna get your opinions!_


	27. Rachel: Advice and More Training

"Hey!" I called. Eomer's head jerked towards me for a moment. He tried to get away when he realized it was me, but I wasn't having that. "I'm getting really sick of this."

"Are you ill?" he asked, stone faced.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed his wrist, pulling him behind a small building. "Listen, I know you blame me for Eowyn's death. But I can't do that anymore. I have to get out of that mindset. And you stomping around Edoras, treating me like I'm not even there is not helping."

"What do you want from me?" he snapped unexpectedly. "My only cousin is dead, my parents are long gone. Eowyn was the last connection I had to my family. Theoden may be my uncle, but he is also my king. For someone in my position, that relationship must be kept formal. You tell me she would still be here without your meddling and expect me to find comfort in that?"

"I expect you to understand that this was hard for me too." I rub at my temples. "Look, I've never dealt with anything like that before. I have both of my parents, I've never lost a sibling. My grandfathers died when I was still too young to comprehend what was actually happening. Until four days ago, I wouldn't have been able to tell you the last time I'd been to a funeral."

"You expect me to find sympathy for you and your easy life?"

"I expect you to understand that this is hard for me. At least you have people who care about you here. Theoden, the Riders. I sent my friend away three days ago to a city that I know is currently under attack. My other friend…I don't even know if she's alive. It's been three weeks since I've seen her and we haven't gone more than two days without talking in six years." I realized that I was starting to cry, and I wasn't having that now. I pushed the tears back and kept a firm eye contact with Eomer. "Listen, if I'm going to be an esquire, I need to know that the Captain of the Rohirim isn't going to just let me die in a battle, if it comes to that. I am sorry about Eowyn. I don't know how many more ways I can say it."

"Why do you even want this title?" he asked, his face softening for the first time in days. "You are a stranger to these lands, these people. Why dedicate your life to a country that does not tie you down?"

I hadn't said it out loud yet, but it was starting to become clear to me when I reunited with Claire and the words felt like acid as they came out of my mouth. "Because I don't know if I'll ever get to go home. I don't know if I'll ever get to see my family again. And I'm not the kind of person who can belong to nothing. These people, the Rohirim, they've accepted me. And they're the only reason I haven't given up hope."

We stood in silence for what seemed like an hour. Eventually, he was the one to break it. "You must hurry if you are to make the ceremony on time. It is customary to appear in full armor and you are in a dress."

It wasn't forgiveness, but it was progress.

* * *

"Rise, Rachel, Daughter of John. Esquire of Rohan and Captain of the Twelfth Legion." Theoden called. Behind me, the thirty-eight women that survived the Battle of the Hornburg cheered and I pulled myself up from a kneeling position, my stupid chainmail weighing me down. Merry was also there, and had been named an esquire, along with all these women. The Twelfth Legion. My legion.

Wow.

After the ceremony, there was a small gathering, but I wasn't really interested in socializing. Legolas had been slightly disappointed that the bow he gave me had been lost in the battle, but he had promised to show me how to craft a new one. It was nice to sit in quiet, keeping my hands busy. Legolas was great at not needing to fill the void with small talk.

It was late afternoon and peaceful. That is until Aragorn came running through the center of town at the speed of lighting, toward Meduseld. Legolas was up instantly, following him, and I copied the Elf.

"The Beacons of Minas Tirith! The Beacons are lit!" Aragorn calls to Theoden and his advisors, who all stand in front of a map. "Gondor calls for aid."

The king gives Aragorn a sharp look before answering. "And Rohan will answer. Muster the Rohirim.

Eomer nods and leaves the king. Not that I've had any real training in this, but the king tells me, as a captain, to gather my Legion and his plan for battle.

Which is what I do. I tell the women and Merry that we're to ride to Dunharrow, where we will camp for two days as Rohirim are summoned from all over the Riddermark. It takes them less than half an hour to be ready with their horses. Theoden had gifted Merry a small pony named Stybba.

We started our journey and I rode beside Legolas and Gimli. "Horsemen," Gimli quipped. "I wish I could muster an army full of Dwarves, bloodthirsty and filthy."

"Your kinsmen may have no need to go to war," Legolas said, looking out to the mountains. "I fear war already marches on their own lands."

I watched Eomer as he mounted his horse and called out to his Riders. "Now is the hour! Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken. Now, fulfill them all, to Lord and Land!"

He led his Riders out of Edoras to take the journey throughout the Riddermark, gathering more soldiers for the fight. He was to meet us in Dunharrow in a day and a half. Theoden led the troops on his horse to the campsite where we would wait for the armies to gather.

* * *

Dunharrow was rather boring, but I did find a few things to do with my time. Along with learning bow crafting from Legolas, Erkenbrand, who had stayed behind with the Rohirim to act as the King's Guard, had started teaching me cavalry combat with a sword and a spear.

"Not to offend you, my lady, but I did notice your poor technique on the field after the Hornburg Battle. It would aid you in our coming war to learn some proper methods."

"Why would I be offended by that?" I said sarcastically.

I spent the whole first day at the camp under Erkenbrand's teachings with the sword and when evening fell, he insisted on teaching my how to use a spear until the sun set. When we finished, Theybrush was exhausted, and I felt his pain. My arms were like wet noodles.

"Here you are, my lady," Erkenbrand said, handing me a cup of water outside my tent. I took it with a small smile, sipping its coolness. He sat down beside me. "I hope this doesn't cross a line, but is something distressing you?" he asked.

"Is it that obvious?"

"What ails you?"

"Do you want a list? Fair warning, it's a long one."

"I asked because I am concerned. If you do not wish to tell me, that is your choice. There is no need to snap."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I just have a lot going on. I sent my friend away four days ago to a place I know isn't safe. And I know I kind of asked for it, but this pressure of being a captain when I have no clue what I'm doing is driving me insane. And it doesn't help that Eomer is so mad at me, he can't even look me in the eye."

"That has not gone unnoticed, my lady. I have known Eomer for many years and consider him a dear friend. I cannot help your distressed feelings for Lady Claire, but if you wish me to speak to Eomer—,"

"No!" I said. "I mean, that is something I need to do myself and I'm trying, I really am."

"If that is what you wish," he said. "But if I may say so, my lady, I must disagree on what you have said about your ability as a captain. You have proven to be a fine leader, someone the people look up to, and I do mean all the people.

"My sister was killed in the same Orc attack as Eowyn and Eomer's father. She knew not how to defend herself. My father thought it foolish and my mother thought it unproductive. I am certain had you been there to teach her, she would have survived. Long has this country needed someone to stand up and change things. We are honored that person is you."

My jaw dropped. It was one thing for the women to thank me for standing up to the monarchy. It was another for one of the soldiers. I was under the impression that most of the men were angry I had endangered the lives of their wives, daughters, and sisters. It was shocking to hear this praise from a Rider.

I opened my mouth to thank him, but was cut off by the sound of a horn. The Riders had returned from their trek through the Riddermark.

Erkenbrand smiled. "Thanks is not necessary, but I urge you to speak to Lord Eomer. You are not the only one distressed by that quarrel."

I left Erkenbrand to find Eomer. He was right. I had to at least keep trying to get Eomer to forgive me.

I was stopped by Merry on my way to find him. I had promised him a sword practice I had forgotten about.

"I'm sorry, Merry. I need to talk to Eomer."

"He went to get supper with the king. Please? You promised."

I conceded, and we sparred for about an hour. I realized quickly that training with Erkenbrand for the day and practicing groundwork with Merry was a bad combination for both my muscles and almost-healed ribs. But I gritted through it.

Merry was actually quite gifted. I had the height advantage, but he was trained to defend that and attack my legs. He actually got in a hit that could have sliced my skin, but instead bruised it as his blade was so dull. "You should get that sharpened," I told him. "Not that I'm not grateful for the un-busted leg, but it won't do much good if it's dull."

We finished practice and I noticed many people had come to watch us. They all seemed to be wondering the same thing. Was I so bad with a sword that a Hobbit could take me on, or was Merry actually that good with a sword? I rolled my eyes at their gossiping.

I noticed Eomer in the crowd, and when we made eye contact, he didn't run away. I took this as a good sign and walked toward him.

"You should not encourage him. You are a better fighter than that. It does no good to give him false confidence."

"There's no such thing as false confidence. And for your information, I was trying. And considering I've been on Theybrush all day sparring with Erkenbrand, I think I put up a good fight. He was taught by Boromir of Gondor and is pretty talented with that sword of his."

"Why do you lead his hopes when he will not fight in the battle?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, confused.

"The King will not let the Hobbit fight. His heart is strong, but the reach of his arm is weak."

"Theoden made him a member of my Legion. Of course he gets to fight."

"You are mistaken."

"I didn't come over her to fight with you," I snapped. "But it seems like you're asking for it."

He crossed his arms. "Have you come to ask, yet again, for forgiveness for my sister's death? Forgiveness witch you know you do not deserve."

I didn't know what to say to that. I racked my brain, trying to come up with a response, but it had turned to mush at his harsh words.

"That is enough," Aragorn said, coming between us. Most of the bystanders had dispersed now and it was just the three of us in front of the small field. "You are comrades now. You must not fight."

"Forgive me, my friend, but you do not know what she has done. Nor will I tell you. This is between the lady and myself," Eomer said.

"I do know what happened," he said. "Legolas told me."

"You're kidding!" I said, completely pissed. Stupid Elves who can't keep secrets.

"I do not jest, Rachel and I know why you did not tell me. It is nothing you need to apologize for, nor does Legolas. He simply saw your distress and thought it best if I intervened."

"Oh did he?" I snapped.

"He did. And he is right. Eomer," he pleaded. "This is not her home. She is far from her home with no family. She has sent away her only friend to a refuge she herself could not seek. You cannot deny her the only home she has managed to find in this land simply because of something that was out of her control. We both knew Eowyn. We knew how stubborn she was. We cannot make Rachel feel guilt for being here. She did not ask for it."

Eomer looked at Aragorn for a moment, waiting to respond. I was grateful to Aragorn for saying these things. It's exactly what I wanted to say but couldn't put into words. "She was my sister," he said eventually. "After Theodred's death, she was all I had left in this world and she is gone. You want me to admit my pain? There it is. There will come a time when I am ready to forgive, but it is not now." And he walked away.

"Thank you," I said to Aragorn.

"I know not why you thank me. I solved nothing."

"At least he said he could forgive me someday. That's a comforting thought."

He smiled that charming smile of his. "Perhaps when this is all over you could tell me more of your land, when it is safe. I feel the two of us would be great companions."

"Maybe you could explain to me exactly what the hell a Dunedine is, 'cause it always confused me."

He chuckled. "It would be my pleasure."

* * *

The next morning, I had a bone to pick with a certain stubborn king. "Eomer says you will not allow Merry to fight tomorrow."

"Eomer does not lie. It was never my intention for the Hobbit to see war."

"Then why make him an esquire? Why have him join my Legion?"

"To better his skills under your teachings. War is no place for tiny creatures and we have no rider that can bear him on the three day journey."

"I'll bear him. Once upon a time you thought women couldn't fight, but look at your army now. A whole Legion of them, ready to fight. "

"No. You have done well practicing with him. But for all of your talk of equality, you have forgotten one thing: we are not all equal. We cannot all ride full-sized horses, or fight foes four times our size. You swayed me on women based on one simple fact: they are capable. I will not see you put that Hobbit's life in danger just to fuel your own sense of pride. That is final."

I walked out of his tent and kicked a bucket outside of the door. Guess I was gonna have to pull an Eowyn with this one.

* * *

When night fell, I tried to get some sleep, but I was too distressed. Tomorrow, for the first time, I would head into a part of the story where I had no clue what was going to happen. I was sneaking Merry into a battle he really shouldn't be in. But I had screwed up so much already that I had to keep something on track.

"My lord, King Theoden awaits you," I heard a guard say outside my tent. I was right beside Aragorn. Oh, man. I had forgotten about this. On the eve of battle, Elrond of Rivendell shows up to give Aragorn the re-forged sword of the king.

Gandalf was really great and all, but Elrond had a gift of foresight. I was supposed to keep the story on track and I had failed. But I had to know what was going to happen tomorrow. With Gandalf gone, another White Council member could give me advice, right?

I opened my tent flap and saw Theoden leaving his own tent. Aragorn was inside with the Master of Rivendell. When he exited with his new bit of shiny, I took my chance and snuck into the tent.

"I thought I would find you tonight," Elrond said. His back was to me.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked.

He turned and looked at me, his sharp eyes unreadable, his eyebrows angled. "I do, Rachel Collins. I also know the Dark Lord's plans for you and your friends. I know the outcome of the battle that will take place in three days. I know the whereabouts of Kristen Logan and Claire Elliott."

I stood there, waiting for him to continue, but he just looked at me. "Are you gonna tell me?" I asked.

The Elf bowed his head. "I will not. The gift of foresight is not something to be toyed with, as I'm sure you have experienced in your time here. I know you have told Legolas, Aragorn, Eomer, and Gandalf of where you come from and how you possess this knowledge. Be careful who you tell. In these dark times, trust is a virtue, but it can also be a curse." He grabbed his bag off the ground and put in on his back. "Your companions ride into the Dimult soon. It is my advice that you join them instead of going to this battle. Heed it if you will, but know that there is possibility of great tragedy if you are to enter the Battle of Pelenor Fields."

I wanted to ask more, but I knew it would do no good. Elrond left me standing in the King's tent, thoroughly confused.

When I exited, he was nowhere to be seen. The sun had started to rise and Aragorn stood with Legolas and Gimli, packing their horses. I walked over to them.

"Will you accompany us?" Aragorn asked me.

"You want me to come?"

"You have proven a valuable companion and a true friend these past weeks. If these two insist on accompanying me, of course you are welcome."

Legolas and Gimli both smiled at me, but I knew I couldn't go. Elrond had given me warning that my presence at the battle would not be good, but I didn't care. I was sick of everything. I realized now why I was so keen on fighting these battles. Sauron had a lot of gall bringing me and my friends here, putting us through danger, dividing us throughout Middle-earth. I'd had it. This was my way to get revenge, to fight back. As much as I wished I could heed Elrond's words, I knew I couldn't.

"I can't," I said to Aragorn. "The fact that I've earned your trust is amazing, and I wish I could, but my place is with the Rohirim."

The Ranger put his hand on my shoulder. "You have come a long way since we found you asleep in the Riddermark, my friend. I wish you luck on your journey, Rachel, and pray we meet again soon."

I hoped for the same thing.


	28. Faramir: The Mystery

Osgiliath had seen better days. We had managed to hold the defenses against the ever-continuing parades of Orcs that continued to flood the city. But when the Nazgul came, we were no match for them, the cries of the Fell Beasts causing my men to cover their ears whenever they sounded. The snatched my men off the ground and carried them into the air or crushing them with their talons. Then the Orcs came in greater numbers from the river, taking the city from our hold.

"Fall back!" I called to my men, knowing we had been overrun. "Fall back to Minas Tirith!" My subordinates called for retreat. Even my right hand man had been taken down. Half of us managed to escape the city onto Pelenor where the Nazgul continued to chase us.

We were saved by a bright light in the distance, serving as a beacon that drove the Nazgul back to their lair. I saw the bearer of the light to be Mithrandir, only he looked different than I last saw him. But I could not dwell on these inconsistencies now. The gate to Minas Tirith drew closer and closer, until my men and I were safely inside.

I took a moment to catch my breath before approaching the Wizard. "Mithrandir," I called to him. "They broke our defenses. They've taken the bridge and the west bank. Battalions of Orcs are crossing the river."

"It is as Lord Denathor predicted," Irolas, one of my soldiers called. "Long has he foreseen this doom."

"Foreseen and done nothing," Mithrandir said.

In the shift of his horse, I noticed a Halfling straddling his saddle with him for the first time. Odd that I never meet these creatures and another shows up within a week of each other.

"Faramir," Mithrandir says, noticing my gaze on the small creature. "This is not the frist Halfling to have crossed your path."

"No," I admitted, shaking my head.

"You're the Man who brought Kristen to Gondor," the Hobbit cried with glee.

"Yes," I said, wondering why this was of importance.

"I thank you for keeping her safe, Faramir. She has told me that you know of her importance."

I nodded as I heard a familiar shrill voice called out to me. "Faramir!" I turned and saw Kristen running towards me, a girl with long, blonde hair, probably the same age, trailing her. "We saw the Nazgul attack. Are you alright?"

I dismounted my horse. "I am fine, my friend. But the stronghold of Osgiliath is overrun." I turned back to Mithrandir. "I must report this to my father."

"We'll go with you," the blonde girl said.

I shook my head at the stranger. "That is unnecessary. My father already harbors anger for my bringing Kristen to his chair."

"I'm Claire, by the way," the blonde said, waving her hand. I briefly remember Kristen asking me of a girl named Claire after telling her of the rumors from Rohan. I bowed my head to Kristen's friend.

* * *

My father did not take the report well. I had never seen his face quite that cross. "This is how you would serve you're city?" he asked. "You would risk its utter ruin?"

"I did what I judged to be right," I defended.

"What you judged to be right? You sent the Ring of Power into Mordor in the hands of a witless Halfling at the urgings of a stupid girl! It should have been brought back to the Citadel to be kept safe, hidden dark and deep within the vaults. Not to be used unless at the utmost end of need."

"I would not use the Ring. Not if Minas Tirith were in ruin and I alone could save her."

"Ever you desire to appear lordly and gracious as a King of Old. Boromir would have remembered his father's need. He would have brought me a kingly gift."

"Boromir would not have brought the Ring. He would have stretched out his hand to the thing and taking it, he would have fallen."

"You know nothing of this matter."

"He would have kept it for his own," I argued. This is truly what I believe. The thoughts I had in the presence of that band of gold were trying, and I cannot imagine what Boromir, a Man who so desperately craved power, would have done had it landed in his possession. I saw what it had done to Frodo and to Kristen. It most certainly would have destroyed my brother, just as Frodo had said. "And when he returned, you would not have known your son."

"Boromir was loyal to me!" Denathor cried, rising out of his chair. "Not some Wizard's pupil!" He stumbled on his robes then, tripping.

I bent down to help him back up, but an odd look had crossed his face. "Father?" I asked.

He did not answer me. He stared over my shoulder, but I knew there was no one there. "My son," he said softly, standing back up. But soon the look was gone, replaced by the scowl I had become so accustomed to. "Leave me," he growled.

* * *

"What was I thinking?" I heard the voice of Mithrandir's Hobbit say from down the hall. "What can a Hobbit offer to such a great leader of Men?"

"Ha, he's not really that great," Claire said. "He's actually pretty crazy."

I rounded the corner and found the Hobbit with Claire and Kristen. They all jumped up from their seats when they heard my steps. The Halfling, whose name I've learned is Pippin, had pledged himself to my father in payment of Boromir's sacrifice to save his life. He was wearing a rather small uniform of Gondor, and I recognized it right away.

"Generous deeds should not be checked with cold council," I said to Pippin. "You're to join the Tower Guard."

"I didn't think they would find any livery that would fit me."

"It once belonged to a young boy of the city. A very foolish one who wasted many hours slaying dragons instead of attending to his studies."

"This was yours?" he asked.

I noticed Kristen smile. "Yes, it was mine. My father had it made for me."

"Well, I'm taller than you were, then," Pippin said. "Though I'm not likely to grow anymore, except sideways."

The four of us chuckled. It was nice to escape war and my father, if only for a moment. "It never fitted me either. Boromir was always the soldier." This thought sent me to a dark place. "They were so alike, he and my father. Proud. Stubborn, even. But strong."

"You are strong," Kristen said. "You did everything you could to hold Osgiliath. You trekked across the Field, getting chased by Nazgul only to keep me safe. And you sent the Ring away."

Her words were kind. It had been three days since I had left her with Wendil. Already she seemed more confident. She held herself higher and smiled more often. Perhaps this was because she had been reunited with her friend. It gave me joy to see that I was able to help her.

"We should go to the Hall," Claire said, breaking my thoughts. "It's probably time for the ceremony."

* * *

"Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor in peace or war, in living or dying, from—from this hour henceforth until my lord release me or death take me." Pippin said, bowing before Denathor. I stood to the side with Claire and Kristen, whom my father completely ignored.

"And I shall not forget it," my father said, rising from his chair and placing his hand in front of Pippin's face so the Hobbit could kiss his ring. "Nor fail to reward that which is given. Fealty with love," he continued, sitting down at a table laden with his dinner. "Valor with honor. Disloyalty with vengeance."

He changed the subject now, talking to me. "I do not think we should so lightly abandon the outer defenses. Defenses that your brother long held intact."

"What would you have me do?" I asked.

"I will not yield the River and Pelenor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken."

"My lord, Osgiliath is overrun."

"Much must be risked in war. Is there a Captain here who still has the courage to do his lord's will?"

Suddenly, it all became clear to me. He had not been speaking to me before the ceremony. He had been wishing for Boromir. I understood now that my father cared not if I lived or died in this war. He had already lost his prize. "You wish now that our places had been exchanged. That I had died and Boromir had lived."

"Yes," he said, taking a drink from his goblet. "I wish that."

My heart seemed to fall from my chest to my stomach. My father didn't even look at me ask he said this, which is what pained me the most. I had lost Boromir and now I had lost my father. Prospects in this war were slim. What was the point of continuing? I could only see one. That my country and city stand while I defend her. "Since you were robbed of Boromir," I said to my father. "I will do what I can in his stead." I started to leave the hall, but turned back one last time. "If I should return, think better of me, Father."

"That will depend on the manner of your return," he mumbled in to his goblet.

I did my best not to run from the hall like a scolded child. I tried to hold my head high and get out of there as soon as possible. My father and I never got along, but never had he treated me like an obligation, something he only put up with.

"Hey!" a shrill voice called to me out in the hall. It was Kristen, her face red. "What did you mean 'if you should return'?"

"Much is ricked in war," I told her. This is not what I meant, but I could not tell her I no longer saw point in continuing to come home. There was no need to worry the girl. She was scared enough by just being near the war. There was no need to bring her closer to its reality. "Not even I can control what may or may not happen."

"You're not just, like, giving up?"

"I am returning to battle. That is a far cry from giving up."

She put her hand on my shoulder. "Just because your father told you doesn't mean you need to go back out there. You said it yourself. Osgiliath was taken. Just stay in the city. Claire says there's a battle coming on Pelenor. Fight that instead."

"I cannot disobey my father. He is lord of these lands and commander of the city's defense."

"Osgiliath isn't this city," she snapped.

"Osgiliath is our stronghold. If we can take it, there need not be a battle on Pelenor. I am sorry, Kristen. There is nothing you can do to make me disobey my father further."

I started to turn away from her, but suddenly, her hand was behind my head, pulling it down with that surprising strength of her's. Her lips met my own and I found myself kissing this girl who had once been my prisoner.

I tried to pull back, but she had wrapped her arms around my neck. I felt her hands tangle in my hair and the softness of her lips. She didn't want me to stop. I didn't want to stop. My mind seemed to shove all thoughts of war and family behind thoughts of this girl who intrigued me with her talk of other worlds and stories of reality. No, I did not want to go back to Osgiliath. I wanted to stay here in the White City with her in this moment.

For days I had defended Osgiliath and in my few moments of quiet I thought only of her. I had not wanted to admit to myself the feelings I harbored in fear of it being a distraction to my duties. I could ignore them no longer now that I knew she felt the same. Or, at least, she felt something. That was enough.

The door to the Great Hall opened and footsteps sounded. I would have ignored it had Kristen not pulled away. Claire stood there, a look on her face I could not read. Kristen's arms fell from my neck and she jumped away. I stood my ground. "Um, sorry," Claire said, her face flushing. "I just…Denathor started calling me annoying even though I didn't say anything and…I didn't mean…I didn't know—,"

"I will take my leave," I said to the women, turning and heading to the barracks to ready my men. I should have apologized to Kristen. It was not right for me to encourage her advances. The trip to Osgiliath could very well be my last. Nor had I been much of a gentleman. She deserved better than a kiss. Women of my country were not so obvious in their romantic interests.

I half expected her to follow me, but she did no such thing. Being alone with my thoughts did me no good in this instance. But I had reached the barracks now and had to turn back into a Captain, for surely my men would be more concerned of the doom this exposition would cause them then my romantic dilemmas.

* * *

 _A/N: OMG you guys! It happened! All you Fara-stin shippers out there, I hope you are pleased! Leave me a review letting me know if i did alright. I'm pretty aromantic IRL and am working on this bit of my writing. Thanks for reading!_


	29. Claire: Breaking the Rules

I honestly didn't know what to say. Faramir left the hall, his boots stomping their way down. Kristen's face was as red as I imagined my own to be.

"So," Kristen said, breaking the silence. "That's probably not good is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said Gandalf told you things in the story couldn't change. A guy like that has got to already have a love interest, right?"

I sighed and sat down on the bench. "No. I mean, he did. It was Eowyn."

"Eowyn?" she asked. "Isn't that the girl Rachel..?"

"Yeah," I answered simply.

Kristen sat down beside me. "I didn't do it on purpose," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Kissing him. It was an accident."

"I don't understand. Did you trip over something?"

Her eyebrows crinkled. "Are you mad at me?"

I leaned against the wall. "No, I'm not mad." I had no right to be mad, not after all I just went through with Rachel. "Do you love him?"

She leaned her elbows onto her knees. "I barely know him."

"That's not what I asked."

She rubbed at her temples. "I don't know, Claire. All I know is that I don't want him to die. And what he said when he left the throne room…He just sounded like he didn't care anymore."

Kristen had always been so hard to read. I'd known her since we were eleven years old and I still couldn't figure out what was going on in her head most of the time. That was Rachel's job. And since Rachel was such a gossip, I usually just waited for her to tell me what was going on. I had been a little pissed at Rachel since she'd sent me away. But this was the first time since reaching the White City that I wished she was here. I had no clue how to handle this.

I stood up. "We should head down to the first level. The people will farewell the soldiers to Osgiliath."

* * *

Faramir lead a group of about fifty soldiers on horseback throughout the first level of Minas Tirith. Kristen and I watched from a balcony as the commoners gifted flowers to the soldiers.

Gandalf came through the crowd, calling for Faramir. "Your father's will has turned to madness," he called. "Do not throw away your life so rashly."

"Where does my allegiance lie if not here?" he asked. "This is the city of the Men of Numenor. I am glad to give my life to defend her beauty, her memory, her wisdom."

"Your father loves you, Faramir," Gandalf said.

I felt Kristen beside me start to shake and noticed she was crying. "What's wrong?"

She wiped a tear from her cheek. "He still doesn't care. I didn't change it." And as the soldiers made their way through the gate, Kristen ran from beside me and up the stairs.

I tried to follow her, but it was no use. She was faster than me and had had three more days than me to learn how to navigate this confusing city. By the time I had made it to the fourth level barracks, which were all but empty at this point, I had lost her.

I walked back to our room at the Healing Houses in defeat. I felt awful that I hadn't done anything or said anything to help Kristen. When I got to our room, there was a small boy there, looking confused. "You're not Lady Kristen," he said.

"No, I'm her friend Claire," I said. "I don't know where Kristen is."

"Bergil?" I heard a woman call. She rounded the corner, her face flushed. She was wearing the robes of a healer. "I'm sorry, miss. Was my boy bothering you?"

"No, not at all," I said.

"Begging your pardon, but what might you be doing in these quarters, miss? A guest of Lord Faramir is staying in that room."

"I know. I came here with Gandalf. I'm a friend of Kristen's. I've been staying with her."

"Oh, well that's a different matter, then," she said, holding out a hand. "Wendil, milady, and my boy, Bergil. We were saying goodbye to my husband again. He left with Lord Faramir."

My stomach dropped, because if things stayed like they did in the movie, Faramir was to be the only person to survive that last trek to Osgiliath.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Lady Kristen is?" Wendil asked.

"I was just looking for her."

She looked between me and her son. "I hate to ask, but the wounded Faramir brought back with him is a great deal. I haven't the time to tend to them and watch Bergil all at once—,"

"I'll watch him," I said immediately. I needed something to distract me from everything that was going on.

She left me with the kid who stood there just…looking at me. "So…what do children in Middle-earth do with their time?" I asked.

The boy just shrugged his shoulders and continued to stare at my face. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Bergil was sweet enough and he had some ideas about how to spend our time. He took me throughout the lower levels of the city introducing me to some family friends of his. We even peeked into the barracks and caught a glimpse of soldiers putting on their armor and sparring with each other. No one minded, so long as we stayed out of the way.

Late in the evening, however, thunderous footsteps sounded throughout the city. We ran to the balcony of the barracks and saw the cascades of Orcs and their giant war machines piling onto Pelenor Fields. The men from the barracks fled this level of the city and swarmed to the two lower levels to defend Minas Tirith.

I thought I would be scared, but for some reason, I wasn't. I still didn't know where Kristen was, but she knew this city better than I did, so I didn't find any reason to be worried there. What looked like a million enemies were a few hundred feet below and I did not fear for myself. Fighting at Isengard was not like this. There was more danger than what seemed to be here. At least here, the walls stood tall enough to grant me some comfort.

The soldiers in the barracks swarmed out of there, fast as lightning, ready to defend their city. From above, I heard a voice shout, "Flee! Flee for your lives!" It was Denathor, acting like the pussy he was. But soon, Gandalf's voice replaced his. "Prepare for battle!"

I looked down at Bergil, who had turned a nasty shade of white. "We should get you back to your mom," I said to him. He didn't reply. He simply grabbed my hand and led me back to the Healing Houses.

It looked like most of the lower levels had evacuated here for protection, which was pretty stupid to me. Surely the safest place was the Hall of Kings, but there was no way Denathor would share his grandeur with us lesser beings.

"Claire! Claire," I heard a voice call over the cries of the women and children around me. It was Pippin, his tiny body maneuvering around everyone. "You've got to come quick!"

"Where? What's wrong?" I asked. Bergil still held my hand.

"It Faramir. He's wounded. He came back with Beregond but Denathor thinks he's dead. He won't listen to me. He's going to burn Faramir alive!"

Bergil's hand squeezed harder at the sound of his father's name. I looked down at the boy, whose face was still a sick color. No kid his age should ever have to see stuff like this.

"You need to find Gandalf," I told Pippin. "He's the one who can fix this. I don't know what to do." I couldn't get involved. That's what Gandalf told me. Rachel may have been willing to mess stuff up, but that wasn't me. I stuck by the rules.

"I can't find him. He's left the apex and gone down to the battle below. I wasted so much time trying to find you. Please, I can't do this on my own."

I wanted to protest, but then I remembered what Kristen told me about being on her own for so long without me or Rachel. She felt like she was powerless and useless. That she didn't know how to handle the power of the Ring or how to avoid the Nazgul. All I wanted was to be there for her and I couldn't. But I could be there for Pippin.

I left Bergil with a woman he said was his neighbor and followed Pippin up to the great hall. Guards still stood surrounding the tree and the sounds of the fight below the apex were loud and painful to hear.

We burst into the hall. The pyre had already been lit and guards surrounded it. Pippin ran and jumped into the fire, rolling Faramir's body out of the flame. I ran forward as Denathor cried, "You will not take my son from me!" He started grabbing Pippin. Without any thought at all I grabbed a sword from the sheath of the guard nearest me. It was heavy, but the adrenaline coursing through my system helped me raise it and slash at the wrists of Denathor. He screamed in pain, letting go of Pippin, who was now patting out the flames on Faramir's tunic.

"Thank you," Faramir said, the pain of his injuries evident in his voice.

Denathor continued to cry, but something in his voice changed when he heard Faramir's voice. He tried to walk forward, but tripped on his robes and fell into the fire. Covered in oil, the flame took to him immediately. His flaming figure rose from the pyre and ran out the door of the Hall.

I stood in shock, staring at the sword. What had I just done? I felt a hand on my shoulder. The guard whose sword I stole stood beside me. With some difficulty I handed it back.

"Thank you, milady," he said, taking the weapon and sheathing it. "For the life of my captain, I thank you."

"You could have saved him yourself," I snapped. This whole time he wanted Faramir safe and I had to save his ass? What the hell?

"He is—was lord of this land. His word was law. Faramir may be my captain on the battlefield, but here in the Hall of Kings, Denathor had the power. I could not stop him.

It was kind of a crap answer in my opinion, but I nodded anyway, sinking to the ground, exhausted.

"We should get him to the Healing Houses," Pippin said. Faramir had passed out again.

I nodded and the guard I had been speaking to held out his hand, helping me up. "I am Beregond, milady," he introduced.

"Bergil's father?" I asked.

His face became confused. "Yes. How did you…?"

"I was his babysitter for the day. He sure does love you."

He smiled. "Thank you, milady. I am most anxious to see him again."

"We should take Faramir to your wife. She seems like an excellent healer."

* * *

Back at the Houses, Kristen had returned. "Where have you been?" I asked.

"The stables riding Gordion. I just needed a distraction, I guess." Then she spotted Faramir. "What the hell happened?" she yelled, running over to his stretcher.

"Denathor, that bastard," I said. "He's fine. He was hit with something poisonous. If we can get him to a healer in time, he'll be alright."

"Wendil's just through here," she said, leading the stretcher through the halls of the Houses and into an empty room. I noticed her hand resting beside Faramir's the whole way there.

Wendil came through immediately, giving her husband a brief smile before promptly kicking us out of the room and getting to her work.

Outside in the corridor, Kristen and I sank to the floor. "Do you think I'm being stupid?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"This whole thing. I mean, we don't belong here. We're going back home. Is it stupid for me to fall for this guy?"

"I don't think it's stupid, I think it's sweet," I said, and I meant it. "I mean, I don't know how to get home. We could be here for a long time. I haven't thought about it much because it scares me, but it's true." She didn't look convinced, but I knew one thing that would cheer her up: a good bit of gossip. "Don't worry, though, Kristen. You're not the only one. I'm pretty sure Rachel's got a thing for Eomer."

She smiled. "You said they were fighting over Eowyn."

"Yeah, but you know Rachel. A good fight and argument with a tall guy with long hair? She can't resist."

We both laughed then. I wasn't positive about the Rachel and Eomer thing, but I was pretty sure. Rachel didn't crush often, but when she did, it was obvious to someone who knows her.

Suddenly, the ground below us shook with a great force. "What was that?" Kristen asked.

I stood as the next pound came. We both ran to the balcony of the Houses. I had to confirm what I already knew. "Grond," I answered. For indeed, the giant wolf's head was pounding on the gate below.

It didn't take long. A few minutes later, they broke through. Beregond was gone now. I assumed down with his comrades.

But a beacon of hope sounded in the distance as a great army of horse riders came over the hill in the distance. The Armies of Rohan.

Their horns sounded and somehow I knew Rachel was there among them, ready to prove something to this world.

I just didn't know what.

* * *

 _A/N: Holy crap, sorry for the long update. Classes this semester have got me like. Anyway, hope you guys are still with me. Battle of Pelenor Fields the next chapter. Hopefully it won't take me so long this time. Don't forget to leave a review!_


	30. Rachel: The Battle of Pelenor Fields

No one could fathom why Aragorn would leave on the eve of battle. I couldn't explain why to them, but Theoden was the one who stepped in on his behalf.

"He leaves because he must," the king explained simply.

"Too few have come," Gamling said. "We cannot defeat the Armies of Mordor."

"No, we cannot," Theoden said. "But we will meet them in battle, nonetheless."

* * *

At dawn, the horses were ready, my armor was on my body. I now sported a new bow crafted by Legolas and a spear given to me by Erkenbrand. The sword that had been given to me by Eowyn was sheathed at my hip. Theybrush was well rested and ready for the three day journey. I was completely ready, save one thing.

"Merry!" I called to the Hobbit, who was wearing armor given to him from the smithy.

He looked up at me, his face sad. "Theoden King has told me I'm not to go to battle."

"Theoden King can suck it," I said and the Hobbit's face was shocked. "You'll ride with me on Theybrush."

"My lady?" he said. "Aren't you worried of what the King will do when he finds out?"

"No," I answered simply. Theoden was supposed to die in this battle. That pained me greatly, but, just like Haldir at the Battle of the Hornburg, I had to accept the details of the original story like Gandalf had wished. It's why I had to go, it's why Merry had to go.

I pulled the Hobbit to my horse without further explanation and helped him mount it before saddling myself.

"Ride!" I heard Theoden cry. "Ride now to Gondor!"

* * *

I had to keep Merry hidden on our three day journey. Only Maywen, who was now my second-in-command, knew of his presence and she helped keep him hidden from the King on our breaks. The journey was long, but Theybrush seemed to understand how important it was and he took great advantage of rest when he could, knowing he would need full strength when we reached Pelenor. At least that's what I liked to imagine was going on in his horse-brain.

* * *

The break of the third day, we had made it. The sounds of Orcs grunts, the stench of their rotting skin letting us know we had reached our destination and our battle.

My legion formed their rank with me at the front. I didn't care if Theoden saw Merry now. We were here, and he would not stop and scold me for disobeying him when the battle was this near.

I saw him direct Eomer down the flanks with a bannerman. "Flank ready!" Eomer called.

Theoden and his horse trotted up and down the flanks, looking us over. "Arise," he called to us. "Arise Riders of Theoden. Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered, a sword day, a red day ere the sun rises!"

I pulled my sword out of its sheath and raised it with the other captains down the line. Theoden rode down, his own sword clashing with our raised ones. "Ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin and the world's ending! DEATH!"

"DEATH!" we called. We called it three times and Theoden sent us forward.

"Forth Eorlingas!"

Horns sounded and we took off. Arrows came from the sky and a few soldiers dropped, but I couldn't look back. The spears of the Orcs were pointed right at us, but we rammed them. I avoided one spear and slashed down its carrier. Merry took down one on the left.

I fought tooth and nail. I didn't think ahead, only staying in the moment. Erkenbrand's teachings came to great use as I took Orcs down left and right. I don't know how long I fought before the Orcs sensed their trouble. The Rohirim had managed to drive them away. I could hear voices yelling "Drive them to the river!" so that's what Merry and I did.

The Orcs started to run, but that wasn't the end. In the distance, large figures made their way towards us. Oliphaunts, the size of dinosaurs were coming at us, fast. "Reform the line!" Theoden called. "Reform the line!"

Every ounce of fear had long since left me, replaced by pure adrenaline and the desire to make up for all the wrong I had done since coming here. I gave Merry's arm a squeeze as the Oliphaunts made their way to us. Theoden called us forward and we charged them.

Their tusks batted at The Rohirim, sending my comrades flying. Southrons riding on their backs shot arrows at us. So they wanted to play dirty? I pulled my own bow out and shot back at them. I sent three of them falling.

I saw Eomer with a spear, sending it through the driver of one of the beasts. "Eomer!" I called to him. "Aim for the heads!" I expected him to ignore me, but instead, he nodded, pulling out his bow. More and more Rohirim caught on to this plan, and soon we had managed to take down two of them. Eomer's shot at the dirver had caused a confused Oliphaunt to ram into another, taking it down. That was four.

Aiming at the heads was doing the trick as Theoden called for us to take down a fifth. I continued to fight with Merry, who continued to prove his worth. But I was interrupted.

Large talons came out of nowhere and picked me, Merry, and Theybrush into the sky. Then I heard its squeal. My ears couldn't stand the sound that came from its mouth. We had been picked up by a Nazgul.

Theybrush kicked and whinnied and the Fell Beast couldn't contain us in its claws. We started to fall, but it wasn't from a great height. None the less, Theybrush cried in pain when we reached the ground and soon, he made no noise. I wanted to check on my horse, but I had no time, I knew he was gone. I shoved the pain to the back of my mind as the Fell Beast descended again. I pulled out my bow and shot at its stomach, sending it falling. When it hit the ground, Merry and I cut off its head. That was for Theybrush.

The Witch-king of Angmar rose from his fall. "You stupid child," a voice breathed from the darkness behind his massive headdress. "You will bow before the Dark Lord before the sun sets." From out of nowhere, he produced his mace, which was almost as tall as I was.

"She would never!" Merry called. I could hear the fear in his voice, but he stood his ground.

"She will. The Dark Lord will see her carry out her destiny." And with that, the Witch-king slashed his mace in Merry's direction, but I flung myself at the Hobbit, pulling us both out of harm's way of the deadly weapon.

In our squabble to regain footing, the Witch-king had gotten closer. He wrapped his spiked, metal hand around my neck and I couldn't breathe. I dropped my sword. He raised me above the ground. "You will watch him die," the Nazgul said, forcing me to watch as his mace was held above Merry. But suddenly, I fell as his hand gave out and I gasped for air.

Eomer stood behind the Witch-king. He had stabbed him in the back of the leg. A bright light came out of the spot and Eomer clutched his arm, which seemed to have been injured just by stabbing the Nazgul. But he walked over to me and stood by my side as Merry came to my other.

"You fools!" the Witch-king cried as he regained his footing. "No Man can kill me!"

I smiled then, because I knew I didn't need to say it. I had done what I came here to do. Fulfill what Eowyn was supposed to. "Bye," I said as I grabbed Eomer's sword and stabbed him where his face should have been. My arm turned to fire as the blade shot out behind us. The Witch-king's headdress started to compartmentalize, squeezing together. He squealed in agony as his body convulsed and I fell to my knees as he disappeared from his cloak.

I tried to stand back up, but the fire from my arm started to course through my whole body. I heard Merry call my name, but I fell to the ground, catching a glimpse of the green figures that came from the river and took down the remaining enemies. I felt Eomer's arms around me, the last comfort I felt before the fire was too much…

* * *

 _A/N: ooooh! cliffhanger! To make up for my dismal updating skills, here's a next-day chapter for the two-ish weeks i faild to update! send a review!_


	31. Eomer: Some Things Can't Be Saved

She could not die. I had been too harsh, I saw that now. If only I had tried to guide her in the direction that would keep her safe instead of stubbornly refusing to forgive her for something that was not her fault.

On the three day journey, Erkenbrand warned me this would happen. He told me I was being stubborn and foolish, that the girl had grieved long enough for times of war. I could not treat her like a comrade, and now I paid the price as she lay in my arms, her chest struggling to rise and fall.

The Mûmakils had been driven back by a mysterious force that I had not the time to pay any attention. As I held her, I thought of my time in Eowyn's chambers, my sister's body before me, and I helpless. I knew not how to save Rachel, but I had to. Theoden had survived this battle, but I could not loose anyone else. I cannot explain why the girl was so important to me, but she had been since the moment I saw her fighting from her horse at the Battle of the Hornburg. I had wasted so much time wallowing in my pride.

Behind me, there was a cry of pain. Not physical pain, but the pain I felt now verbalized for the field to hear. Suddenly a small woman, perhaps the same age as Rachel had shoved me away from her body and cradled it. Tears welled from her eyes and her screams continued. Without meeting the girl, I knew her to be Kristen, Rachel's missing friend.

Above us, Claire stood. She seemed to shake with grief as tears fell from her eyes as well. I held out my gloved hand and she took it, kneeling beside Rachel with Kristen, the three of us wept.

Soon, though, a hand was on my shoulder. Gandalf stood there, his face somber. "She has not yet passed," the Wizard said. "What happened to her, Eomer?"

"She faced the Witch-king of Angmar," I choked out. "He tried to take her from the field, flying towards Minas Morgul. I know not why. She stabbed at him and took him down. I had never seen anything like it."

"She is fading," Gandalf said, earning a whimper from Kristen. "We must get her to the Healing Houses, quickly."

Kristen held Rachel's head in her lap. I placed my hand on her shoulder, telling her with my eyes I would take care of Rachel. I picked her up and carried her into the White City and up what seemed like a million stairs as Gandalf lead me to the Houses.

Kristen disappeared momentarily into a corridor, returning with an old and frail looking woman. "My Lord Eomer," the woman said, bowing her head. "I am Ioreth, leader of the healers." She turned to Kristen. "This is the Rachel you've told me about, dear?" Kristen nodded. "I will do everything I can. Please, my lord, follow me."

I followed Ioreth through the corridors to a small room. Inside there was a bed, where I placed Rachel, whose breathing was even more staggered then before. "My dears," Ioreth said. "I require space for this task."

"No, we're not leaving her," Kristen said, but Ioreth stopped her protests.

"She will have a better chance if you do as I say, Lady Kristen. Now, please."

Reluctantly I followed Kristen and Claire out to the corridor and back to the main garden of the Houses. Many of the wounded Rohirim and even more Men bearing the White Tree were here seeking healing. One man I did not know sat at the edge of a fountain. His back arched when he saw me and my party. Kristen stopped walking then, but Claire pushed her forward. "Go on," she said.

I watched her small figure approach the man nervously. "You're okay," Kristen said.

"Wendil is good at her job," the man said. "But I fear I caused you more pain then you should have had to endure." He took her hand then, and I knew that this should be a private matter. I turned and found a seat on a bench.

"Mind if I join you?" Claire asked.

"Please," I said, rising again and motioning for her to sit. I had been unfair to Rachel for too long, I would not be ungentlemanly to her friends.

She took the seat and leaned back into it. "I guess we haven't actually been introduced," she said as I took back my seat.

"I suppose it matters not since I know of you from Rachel. I assume you know who I am."

"So Rachel did tell you everything?"

"I suppose not everything. I don't believe I gave her the chance."

Claire's eyes were red from crying and her cheeks were flushed. Her blonde hair was untidy. "You said the Witch-king tried to take her to Minas Morgul?" she asked. I nodded. "Other Nazgul tried to do that to Kristen when she traveled across the Field with Faramir, but he was able to outrun them. When I rode with Gandalf, they tried to pick me up as well."

"The Witch-king seemed to imply he had been ordered to take Rachel by Sauron," I told her.

She nodded. "That makes sense," was all she said. I did not ask for more information.

We sat silent for a moment before I heard Claire gasp. Her gaze was on Kristen and that man, who were now sharing a kiss. I relished in the happy thought that love was still here in this war that made so much seem hopeless.

Claire's face was surprisingly unhappy. I would have thought this act of love would raise the heart of even a stranger, as it did for me, but with her, it did not. "You are displeased?" I asked.

She shook her head. "'Displeased' isn't the word I'd use. It's just…we're not from here. We have a home. A home I want to get back to. I spent most of my childhood wishing I could live here, in Middle-earth. Now that I am here, I miss home. I miss my friends, my family, and my school. I guess I just wasn't made for this life where your friends could die at any second."

"I remember a time when it wasn't like this," I told her. "Before the war, I lived a happy life. My parents were gone, yes, but I had family. I think it is moments like this that truly make us appreciate the love we have in our lives. If your friend there has found love in that man, I see that as a sign that this war has not just taken, but it has also gifted. Love is not always to be understood."

"Yeah, I guess you'd get it, wouldn't you?" she asked. I was confused. What did she mean? She must have seen the misunderstanding on my face. "Because of you and Rachel?" she tried to clarify.

"My lady, I do not follow."

She rolled her eyes. "I've known Rachel for a long time. I can tell when she likes a guy. And you're not so subtle yourself. No one else was crying over her body out there."

"Are you implying—?"

"Yeah, I'm implying," she said.

I could not think of a reply. I cared for Rachel deeply, even if my actions of late have not shown it. I have cared for her since she walked into Eowyn's room those few days ago. I continued to care for her even though I buried my feelings deep. When I saw her getting carried away by the Witch-king I could no longer keep up my pointless grudge. She was in danger and I couldn't lose anyone else I cared for to this war.

I was brought out of my thoughts by Claire, who jumped up from her seat and ran back to the gardens. Ioreth was speaking to Gandalf by the corridor entrance. I rose and followed Claire, Kristen not far behind me.

"What happened? Is she alright?" Claire asked.

"She is fading," Ioreth said. "It seems in stabbing the Nazgul, her body could not endure the evil from the end of the blade. Something courses through her veins. Her blood is turning black."

"She will not pass to the shadow world," Gandalf said. "Nor will she die. She will simply exist. It is a fate…worse than death."

The faces of Rachel's friends were full of grief. I remembered Rachel telling me of how little she was made to suffer in her world and I could tell the same was for her friends. "Gandalf, there must be something we can do," I pleaded.

"The hands of the king are the hands of a healer," Ioreth said. "Alas, our kingdom has been kingless for decades. There is little more I can think to do other than this."

"The hands of the king?" Claire asked. "Any king?"

"The Dunedine king of Gondor, milady."

"Gandalf," Claire said. "Where is Aragorn?"

The Wizard smiled then. "Why Claire, my dear, you grow wiser every day." And with that, Gandalf lead Claire out of the Houses.

I turned back to Ioreth. "May I see her?" I asked.

The old woman nodded and led me back to Rachel's room, along with Kristen and her male companion.

She had been removed from her chainmail and armor and was now wearing a white dress beneath the linin sheets. Her right arm, the arm she stabbed the Witch-king with, was indeed bad. The veins beneath her skin were black, sending the tainted blood throughout her body. Her skin was pale and she shivered with each breath. She knew not that we were here, her mind unconscious.

Kristen knelt beside the bed and took her friend's poisoned hand. "You are so stupid, you know that?" she said, her voice shaking with tears.

Her companion knelt down beside her. "She would not want you to suffer over this."

"You don't know what she would have wanted. You don't know her."

I sat in a chair near the foot of the bed. "How long have you known each other?" I asked.

"Ten years. Since we were eleven." She looked up at me for the first time. "Who are you?"

"Eomer, Son of Eomund."

"The commander of the Riders of Rohan?" her companion asked. I nodded. He held out his hand. "Faramir, Son of Denathor." Ah, so this was the young captain of Gondor. I shook his hand. "I thank you and your Rohirim for the safety of my city."

We waited in silence then, and all I could do was stare at Rachel's face, her breathing becoming more difficult with every passing moment. I wanted desperately to take her hand and let her know I was here, that I had forgiven her, but Kristen would not budge and I had not the heart to ask her to.

Claire was back within the half hour, Aragorn with her. Now that they were here, the tiny room had become cramped. "Please," Aragorn said gently to Kristen. "I will need some room, my lady."

Reluctantly, Kristen nodded and backed away from the cot toward Faramir. "We should give him space," Faramir said to her. "You're tired. You need rest."

"But—,"

"He's right, Kristen," Claire said. "We both need the rest."

"I will wait with her," I volunteered. It was selfish of me, but it would seem to be the only time I would have alone with her, even if Aragorn would be working.

"That's a good idea," Claire said, giving me a small smile. "C'mon, Kristen." And she led her and Faramir out of the room.

Aragorn had been making something in a bowl. Now that we were alone, he started dabbing Rachel's head with it, and her poisoned arm. "I take it you forgave her, then?" the Ranger asked.

"Not soon enough," I admitted.

"Lady Claire said she was attacked by a Nazgul."

"The Witch-king. I thought she would die instantly, but with the help of Merry, she held her own."

Aragorn smiled, pulling her arm into his hands. "I always thought her to be reckless." He started bathing the arm in the salve he made. I sat quietly while he worked, just looking at her face, praying her breathing would calm.

"Do you think she can hear us?" I asked.

Aragorn sighed. "Probably not. I hate to think of the dreams that are in her head. I wish she could."

This was not the answer I was looking for.

After Aragorn had finished, her breathing did slow down. He said he did not know when she would wake, but he was certain he had saved her. With that news, I had become instantly less anxious. I was eternally grateful to this Ranger who had saved her. He promised me a few moments alone before he told Claire and Kristen of her recovery. Outside, the sun started to rise. I hoped the girls had found some rest.

My moment alone with her was short-lived, however, as we were interrupted. King Theoden walked in, bringing me to attention. "My lord."

"Eomer," he said, motioning for me to sit back down. "Aragorn tells me she is to make a full recovery."

"Indeed," I said, looking back at her face. Her color seemed to be returning now.

"He also tells me you've been with her all night." I simply nodded. Then, my uncle surprised me. "Do you love her, Eomer?"

I looked at him with surprise. I wanted to lie, but I knew I could never lie to my king. "I find myself unable to answer that question."

"I will simplify. Do you think she could bring you happiness?"

"I think she would bring me stress, worry, and frustration."

Theoden chuckled. "You have much to learn if you think love does not go hand in hand with those emotions." I knew not what to say, so he continued. "She is a rare find, that one. It takes one of a kind to stand up and make a change. Not even Eowyn could have done what she has done, uniting a kingdom even further than I could have thought," he stood up, and I followed. "I cannot make this decision for you, my nephew. But I do hope you make the right one." With that, he took his leave.

I watched his back as he left the small room. From behind me, I heard a small breath, the sweetest sound I had ever heard. "I guess he doesn't hate me anymore."

My head jerked back toward Rachel, whose eyes were now open above red cheeks. I kneeled next to her head. "How do you feel?"

She shifted a bit, wincing. "Like I've been hit by a bulldozer."

"I do not know what a bulldozer is."

She laughed, a sound like bells. A sound I had worried I would never hear. I wanted to sit with her forever, but I knew I could not and she continued to talk. "I guess I can be a bit frustrating."

My face grew hot. "You heard that conversation?"

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure Theoden knew I was awake, too." She paused. "So, what's your answer?"

I closed my eyes, picking my words carefully. "I dare not utter the words, for I could not bear it if your answer were not the same."

Her hand came up and stroked the side of my face. "Do you want me to answer first?" I said nothing, but she continued anyway. "We're very different people. So different, I doubt you'd be able to understand. But since the moment I've met you, we've been in this war. People we loved have died. And for over a week, we've been in a constant fight." She took a breath. "Eomer, I haven't had time to fall in love. I…when this is all over, can we...maybe start over?"

"Start over?" I asked.

"Yeah. Put all of the anger behind us. Get to know each other again."

It was not the answer I had hoped for. Nor was it the one I expected. But it was an answer filled with hope. Hope for the future. Hope for the two of us. "I would like that," I said, before Kristen and Claire burst into the room, bringing us out of our peace.

* * *

 _A/N: I hope that wasn't too disappointing guys. I've been emotionally damaged since that Rick and Morty season finale, so I didn't have it in me. Haha, JK. This was always the plan. As always, leave me a review, let me know what you think!_


	32. Kristen: Recovery

I didn't expect my reunion with Rachel to be so terrifying. Seeing her in a stranger's arms on the brink of death was something I never thought I'd have to experience. I never thought about us dying. But luckily this guy from the battlefield, whoever he was, really cared about Rachel and helped get her to the Healing Houses quick.

Ioreth did her best as she sent us out of the room, and when I saw Faramir was awake and waiting for me, I felt obnoxious for putting my concern for Rachel to the side and I wouldn't have done it had Claire not pushed me towards him.

"You're okay," I said, my body basically shaking with nerves.

"Wendil is good at her job," Faramir said. "But I fear I caused you more pain then you should have had to endure." He reached over to me and grabbed my hand, pulling me down next to him at the edge of the fountain. The sprinkling of the water jumped onto my skin. "It was foolish of me to ride out to battle like that and it was ungentlemanly of me to leave you as I did without even a goodbye."

I shook my head. "No, I shouldn't have kissed you like that, you don't need to apologize."

He smiled. "How about we call it even?" I nodded in agreement. His hand still held mine and his thumb stroked its back. I tried to focus on only him, but with Rachel in the other room, I couldn't. Faramir or no Faramir, Rachel was my platonic life partner and while I was happy Faramir was alright, if she died from this, I don't know what I would do.

His fingers graced below my chin, pulling my eyes up to his. "You are distressed."

"Rachel was wounded. She killed one of the Nazgul and she's with Ioreth now. We don't know if she'll make it."

"Rachel, Daughter of John?" he asked, and I nodded. "I am so sorry, Kristen."

I didn't want to think about this anymore. At least not until there was something to worry about. "Distract me," I told him.

"Pardon?"

"Distract me from this, please."

He obviously wasn't getting the message. "I do not—," so I shut him up with another kiss. Our last one was different. When I kissed him it was to get him to stay with me, to keep him safe. Now, I wanted to feel something that was not grief. I wanted to savor in the fact that he was alive and Denathor was not. Our last kiss had been rough, but this was gentle. His hand cupped the back of my neck and my hands held his broad shoulders.

He broke it all too soon. "You really like doing that, don't you?"

"Shut up," I said, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back.

But he stopped me, pulling my hands down. "We can't, Kristen."

My eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

"It isn't fair. I cannot continue to let you do this. If it's my heart you're after, you have already won that. But small kisses in moments of distress are not fair."

"What are you saying?"

"From the moment you and I road from Osgiliath to Minas Tirith, I knew I loved you. The Nazgul that pursued us and the danger you had been exposed to confirmed it. Now that my father is gone and his reign of insanity has been purged from this country there is little that stands between us other than the war. But if you do not feel the same—if you are just using me as a distraction from your troubles—that is not fair."

I didn't know what to say. I did love him, I knew that much. But I also knew that I couldn't stay here forever. I had a home and a family. Two things I desperately missed. If Rachel didn't make it, I couldn't stay here without her. Faramir and I were tied to Rachel's fate because, while I did love him, I loved my friend more.

I was saved having to answer by Ioreth coming out of the corridor and moving over to Gandalf. I jumped up and Faramir followed. Claire and that horse-guy beat us there. "What happened? Is she alright?" Claire asked.

"She is fading," Ioreth said. "It seems in stabbing the Nazgul, her body could not endure the evil from the end of the blade. Something courses through her veins. Her blood is turning black."

"She will not pass to the shadow world," Gandalf said. "Nor will she die. She will simply exist. It is a fate…worse than death."

A fate worse than death? I started trembling and Faramir put his arms on my shoulders, trying to steady me.

"Gandalf, there must be something we can do," the horse-guy said. I remembered what Claire had told me about Rachel having a crush on a guy named Eomer. This guy seemed really concerned for someone who insisted she had killed his sister. They couldn't have been the same person.

"The hands of the king are the hands of a healer," Ioreth said. "Alas, our kingdom has been kingless for decades. There is little more I can think to do other than this."

"The hands of the king?" Claire asked. "Any king?"

"The Dunedine king of Gondor, milady."

"Gandalf," Claire said. "Where is Aragorn?"

Gandalf smiled. "Why Claire, my dear, you grow wiser every day." He led Claire out of the Houses. I was about to ask if I could see her, when Horse Dude beat me to the punch.

"May I see her?" he asked.

Ioreth led us back to Rachel's room and I sat near her head, grabbing her good hand and grasping it between my own. "You are so stupid, you know that?" I said. Why did she have to prove a point? I'm all for women's equality and what she did was amazing, but did she have to put herself in danger to get it done?

I felt Faramir's hand on my shoulder. "She would not want you to suffer over this."

"You don't know what she would have wanted. You don't know her." If fact, I'm sure Rachel would relish in the fact that this many people were freaking out over her potential death.

"How long have you known each other?" Horse Dude asked.

"Ten years. Since we were eleven." I turned my head to him. "Who are you?"

"Eomer, Son of Eomund," he said. Well, there you go. I was wrong. Then again, Claire has been away from Rachel for over a week and Claire was my source in all of this.

Faramir and Eomer talked, but I ignored them, watching Rachel struggle to breathe. Her mom would know what to do. Somehow her mom knew everything. God, what would I tell her mom if she died? _Oh, I'm so sorry Mrs. Collins, but Rachel perished in the War of the Rings. Yeah, the fictional one written by JRR Tolkien. But don't worry! Claire and I survived!_

It didn't take Claire long to get back. She was accompanied by Aragorn, that freaking gorgeous man from the first movie. "Please. I will need some room, my lady," he said to me, kindly.

I nodded and backed away from the cot toward Faramir. "We should give him space," he said. "You're tired. You need rest."

"But—,"

"He's right, Kristen," Claire said. "We both need the rest."

"I will wait with her," Eomer volunteered.

"That's a good idea," Claire said. "C'mon, Kristen." I didn't want to go, but Faramir nudged me in the back and I knew Aragorn needed his space. He basically saved Frodo when he was stabbed in the first film. If anyone could save Rachel, it would be him.

In the gardens, there were more familiar faces and others I did not recognize. Legolas the Elf and that Dwarf Gimli were sitting with Gandalf and Pippin. A few women, still in battle armor were gathered by a rose bush. An older guy stood near them, a red shield in his lap.

"Lady Claire," Legolas said, standing and moving towards us. "Gandalf tells us Rachel fades but for the help of Aragorn."

"She's alive," Claire said. "Aragorn is trying."

I looked around at all of these people. "You're all here for Rachel?" I asked, shocked.

The guy with the shield stood and bowed his head. "Erkenbrand, Son of Eorcan, my lady. These women are from Lady Rachel's legion. We are all here for her, yes."

Gandalf smiled. "It seems Rachel has touched more hearts of the Riddermark then we could have imagined."

"Lady Kristen, I presume?" Gimli asked me and I nodded. He wasn't much shorter than me, but it was just as weird talking to a Dwarf as it was a Hobbit.

"Where's Merry?" Claire asked.

"Sleeping," Pippin answered. "He is expected to make a quick recovery."

"You are both tired," Legolas said, looking between me and Claire.

"The Elf is right. You should rest," Faramir said.

"But what about Rachel? What if she…" I trailed off. It could go either way.

"I will wake you if there is any news," he said, leading Claire and me back to our rooms.

* * *

Faramir went back out to the group, intent on keeping his word. I hadn't slept in over a day. Everyone was right. I needed sleep and as much as I wanted to stay awake for Rachel's sake, when my head hit the pillow, I was out.

I didn't dream, which was weird for me. Probably because it felt like I had been asleep for only two minutes when Faramir woke me with a kiss on my forehead.

"I though you said we weren't going to do that anymore," I said groggily.

"I said _you_ weren't going to do that anymore," he clarified. "Lord Aragorn is done with Rachel. He says you and Claire can visit, though she is not yet awake."

Energy came back almost instantly. "I'll go wake Claire," I said, jumping out of bed.

"The Elf has done that already. Calm yourself. You haven't had much sleep."

Claire was waiting for me in the hallway. We all but ran to Rachel's corridor, ignoring the group of people Aragorn was informing of Rachel's recovery.

We slammed the door open. Eomer was knelt over her head, but he moved when we got there. Her eyes were open and other than looking really tired, she was fine. Her color was back and she was breathing normally again. Her arm was still bruised looking, but her veins weren't jutting out like they had been.

I don't remember what we talked about. I only remembered the feelings of fear and anxiety leaving me when I saw she would be okay.

Faramir came back after a few minutes. "Lady Rachel," he greeted her, bowing his head.

"Faramir," she smiled.

He was slightly shocked when she knew his name, but he smiled, nonetheless. "Mithrandir requests our presence at a meeting in the Hall of Kings, if you are well enough."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." She tried to sit up then, but she winced and fell back down.

"Hold on," Claire said, running out the door and returning with a wooden wheelchair. Faramir helped us get her into it and we made for the Hall.

The meeting consisted of the four of us, Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, and Eomer.

"Frodo has passed beyond my sight," Gandalf said. "The darkness is deepening."

"If Sauron had the Ring we would know it," Aragorn said.

Gandalf turned to us. "What do you know?"

Claire looked confused. Rachel looked smug. "I thought we weren't supposed to tell you," Claire said.

"The war draws to a close. And it seems your knowledge of the future has done more good for this world than we could have hoped."

"Frodo is struggling, but he still has the Ring," Rachel said. "He and Sam move through Mordor, but if Sauron were to catch them, that would be the end. There are thousands of Orcs in Mordor just waiting to snatch up two Hobbits."

"Then we draw out Sauron's armies," Aragorn said. "Empty his hands by marching up on them at the Black Gate."

"We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms," Eomer said.

"Not for ourselves, but we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A diversion," Legolas grinned.

"Certainty of death, small chance of success. What are we waiting for?" Gimli said, smoking his pipe.

"Hold on," Rachel continued. "There's more. The Mouth of Sauron will try to convince you that Frodo is dead. Don't take the bait."

"Thank you, all of you," Aragorn said, bowing his head towards us before turning back to everyone else. "We will ride out at dawn and meet the Lord of the Black Land in battle."

"I should be fine to fight by dawn," Rachel said.

Claire and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes. "Shut up," we said. Everyone laughed.

* * *

 _A/N: Yay! Everyone's okay! One more battle to go, you guys! Don't forget to send a review!_


	33. Rachel and Aragorn: Black Breath

-Rachel-

I sat in my wheelchair at the edge of the apex. It had been over an hour since the party of warriors, Gondorian and Rohiric alike, had taken on the Black Gate. Claire and I exchanged nervous glances. "Should it have taken this long?" she asked. I shrugged. I had no idea.

Suddenly, the screeches of the Nazgul sounded above me. Three swooped in all at once. I tried to stand, but I fell to the ground, still too weak to run. Faramir tried to shield Kristen, but it was no use. The talon of the Fell Beast sunk right through his chest. Kristen screamed in horror as he fell, but not for long. Soon, the beast picked her up as well, carried her over the side of the apex and dropped her into Pelenor.

I screamed in a protest that did no good. I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't have it. Claire had run to the White Tree, but no further than that before another Fell Beast picked her up and crushed her body.

It was too horrific. All I could do was scream. Not even real words, just noises of pain as a Fell Beast descended on me and picked me up, carrying me away from the apex. I expected to be dropped, but it did no such thing. It carried my screaming body all the way to Mordor.

At the entrance to the Dark Realm, the bodies of my friends and companions were strewn across the dirt-ridded field. It seemed the Nazgul wanted me to suffer as it forced me to see the dead faces of Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Merry, Pippin, Gandalf, Erkenbrand, Maywen, Theoden,…and Eomer.

I tired closing my eyes, but I couldn't. Something inside of me made me watch. Soon, though I was over the gate, facing the black rock that was everywhere. Orcs paraded the Black City, jovial with victory. It was disgusting.

But the most awful sight of all was the tower. Sauron's tower where the eye should have been. It was now just an empty, black stronghold. It was at the base of this tower, the Fell Beast dropped me.

Before me was the most horrifying sight. Clad in black, metal armor and a helmet far grander than even that of the Witch-king, he stood about twelve feet tall. And around the finger if his right index…

The Ring. Sauron had his Ring.

"I owe you much gratitude," his voice snarled in my mind. "For this would have been unachievable without you and your friends. And now, you have served your purpose." From nowhere, a sword had been produced. He brought it down towards me face…

* * *

My eyes jolted open. Sweat poured down my face and my arm that had stabbed the Witch-king was throbbing. My breathing was shaky and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't get the faces of my dead friends, nor the horror of Sauron's out of my head. As if it would be ingrained there forever.

I started to cry. I hadn't cried since Eowyn's funeral, another friend I had seen die. Why was this happening? I hadn't told anyone of the dreams that haunted me while I was unconscious. Basically the same visions, but now they were worse. Now that I had been awake again, they seemed to haunt me whenever I closed my eyes.

I tried to focus on one thing at a time. I looked out my window and picked the brightest star I could find. It was a start. My breathing started to even out and the tears stopped. _It was just a dream, Rachel. Just a dream._

I pulled my wheelchair over to the edge of my bed and pulled myself into it. It wasn't a real wheelchair. It was basically just a wooden chair with wheels on it. I really couldn't even roll it myself. That took determination.

It was nice to be out of the sweat-ridden sheets. I was still wearing this ridiculous white dress from when Ioreth had changed it. I desperately wanted my leather pants back.

It was good to think about things I wanted that were actually attainable. What I really wanted was an answer to these riddles I'd been forced to sit on. According to Claire, Saruman had hinted that Sauron didn't actually bring us here. Kristen thought it was the Ring. She had seen it first hand and noticed the scars that the three of us had attained on our eyebrows were the same width as the Ring. If the Ring brought us here, then why? What would it have to gain by bringing us, of all people, to Middle-earth?

There was only one person I could ask these questions. Except he wasn't exactly a person…

* * *

Pushing myself up to the apex was really hard. By the time I made it up there, my arm felt like it was going to fall off. Aragorn had wrapped it in a salve of atholas root, but it wasn't doing much good now, especially after that dream.

I wheeled my way past the tree guards, who barely even glanced at me, let alone offered to wheel me into the hall. The door to the hall was, thankfully, slightly ajar and I was able to push it open without much difficulty.

I expected it to be empty, but Aragorn stood in front of the throne, my destination inches from his hand.

The pilantir's smoky pictures glowed on the surface and the Ranger jumped when the door slammed shut. I cringed at my own stupidity of letting it swing shut like that. "Rachel," he said, removing his hand. "What are you doing here? You should be in bed."

"Can't sleep," I mumbled, wheeling myself closer.

He sat down in the Steward's chair. "Is it the dreams?"

I raised my eyebrows. "How did you know about that?"

"Black Breath, the ailment which you have sustained can bring on lucid nightmares. Your greatest fears."

"That didn't happen to Frodo when he was stabbed on Weathertop."

He was momentarily taken aback before grinning at me. "I forget how much you and Lady Claire know."

"We really don't know all that much. Not anymore."

He paused for a moment. "Why did you come here?"

"I told you, I couldn't sleep," I said, not wanting to admit the truth.

He ran a hand through his hair. "There is more to this story, my friend. Do not take me for a fool."

I let out a deep breath. I couldn't lie to Aragorn. "After all that's happened, we still don't know why we're here. I mean, we all have theories, but we don't have the answer—,"

"And you thought you would use the seeing stone to ask the Dark Lord." I nodded. Aragorn sighed and leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. "After all Legolas and I have done to keep you safe, you would risk your wellbeing for an answer to a question that would be attainable from Lord Elrond in a matter of days?"

"Well, when you put it like that."

He placed his hand on top of mine. "What did you see in your dream to make you that desperate?"

I shook my head. "I can't…"

"Rachel, you are safe here, you can tell me."

My voice started to shake as the tears were welling up again. I wanted to tell Aragorn the truth. "I saw everyone I cared for in this land dead before my eyes. Claire and Kristen were killed before me at the hands of the remaining Nazgul in revenge for their leader. They carried me to Sauron himself, with the One Ring on his finger."

Aragorn pulled me into a hug. A hug that I didn't realize I desperately needed until now. "It was a nightmare," he told me as the tears flowed from my eyes. "Only a nightmare, Rachel." He continued to mumble comforting things into my ear as I slowly stopped crying.

"Jesus, I'm sorry," I said, whipping my face off. I probably looked disgusting.

He smiled at me. "There is no need to apologize for being afraid. Honestly, I was beginning to worry that you had not a single ounce of fear in your being. It is comforting to see you so…well…normal."

I chuckled. "I don't think I've ever been called 'normal' in my life. I don't think I care for it."

"You wouldn't, would you?" We sat in silence for a moment before he broke it. "I think sleep would do us both some good. The sun rises in five hours. If you would like, I can escort you back to your room."

"I don't know," I hesitated, not wanting to be sucked back into the nightmares.

"I can carry you. You can fall asleep on the way there. It will be as if a companion is by your side throughout the night."

"Thank you, Aragorn," I said, holding out my arms. He picked me up gently and I was asleep in a matter of minutes.

* * *

-Aragorn-

It baffled me how much we had all come to care for these three mysterious girls. Merry and Pippin adored Claire and Faramir had fallen in love with Kristen.

Legolas, Gimli, and I certainly loved Rachel and I often found myself wondering what our journeys would have been like if she had joined the Fellowship. She had proved to be a gallant fighter and a strong leader. She had opened my eyes to such possibility of the future, with her proof that a woman can fight to the standards of a man.

I hated to see her suffer like this and I worried for her future.

I rounded the corner to her room in the Healing Houses, but someone was already there. Eomer sat on a stool outside her door. He jumped up when he saw her in my arms. "Is she alright?" he whispered. "A guard was talking outside of the barracks. He said he saw her enter the Hall."

His face was so full of worry. I knew Eomer had come to love her more than even me and my comrades. Watching his face as he sat by her side while I healed her confirmed it. And it was for that reason I could not lie to him. "A moment, my friend," I whispered, carrying Rachel through the door and placing her in her bed. I shut the door behind me. "She is…not as well as I had hoped."

"I do not understand."

I ran my hand through my hair. I wanted to break this delicately, but I also wanted him to understand how serious this was. "The Black Breath did not take her life entirely, but it was some time before I was able to get to her. Taking the life of something so evil, something that was meant to turn everything it came to contact with to evil, her body suffered. But her body will heal, with time. Her mind, however…"

"Aragorn, please," Eomer said.

"She won't be the same. The Black Breath is a disease so full of evil it torments her mind with nightmares and fear. She will have this, probably for the rest of her life."

He sat back down, putting his head in his hands. "Would it always be like this? Nightmares and fear every time she closes her eyes?"

I placed my hand on his shoulder. "I like to hope for the better. Eomer, my friend, you had to know loving that one would be no easy task."

"I did not ask for these feelings, Aragorn. From the minute they entered my life they have brought me little more than pain; finding out her role in Eowyn's death, the favor she had won so easily from my uncle, and when her body fell in battle…no one ever told me love would hurt this much."

I understood what he meant. Falling in love with an Elf had been trying. And when I had to give Arwen up, let her sail to the Undying Lands, I was pained more than a sword in the gut. I knew I would never see her again. At least Eomer had time. I bent down to his level, so I could look him in the eye. "Love is a constant fight," I told him. "A fight for equality, a fight for safety; the list is endless. But, Eomer, I have never met a better pair of fighters than the two of you. We have one more day of this turmoil. Only one day before things get better. Do not fear for the uncertainty of the future. Look forward to the possibilities."

He said little more before we parted. I fell asleep before the battle contemplating my own advice. Perhaps I should take it.


	34. Claire and Faramir: The Last Battle

-Claire-

Faramir was still too weak to fight. To Kristen's great relief, he volunteered to stay behind as the single guard of the White Tree, so his comrades could go and fight. I could see that it pained him to not be out there with them, but Kristen was happy, so I was happy too.

Rachel was…not happy at all. In fact, when I saw her this morning, she looked disheveled and exhausted. The bags under her eyes were heavy and her eyes were red, like she had been crying.

"Are you alright?" I asked her in the gardens after we woke.

"Oh, I'm fine," she said, waving a hand. I knew she was lying, but I didn't question further.

The women, children, elders, and wounded who were to remain with us in Gondor were planning on seeing the soldiers out. Rachel was slightly bitter as she sent her legion out without her. Her second-in-command, Maywen, looked nervous to be taking on such a big task, but I figured she would do fine.

Pippin would be riding with Gandalf and Merry had fully recovered after a good night's sleep. He was to ride on the back of Eomer's Mera, Firefoot. I noticed Rachel giving Eomer some looks of worry as Theoden bid her farewell, but I didn't say anything. Lord knows we'd be bored as rocks just waiting up in the apex with Faramir. I'd ask her about it then.

I hated saying goodbye to everyone, even though the one's I had grown closest to were supposed to survive. But after so much had been changed, nothing was certain anymore. After they passed through the gates, I wheeled Rachel as fast as I could up to the apex where Faramir was already posted. Kristen had left before we had, as there was no one leaving in the party she considered a friend. Not that she didn't care, she just didn't want to stand around awkwardly.

We watched in silence as our friends marched toward that giant black cloud in the sky. But soon, they were out of sight and all we could do was wait.

Rachel kept glancing nervously up at the sky. "Seriously, Rachel, what the hell is the matter?" I asked.

"I really don't want to talk about it right now, okay?" she snapped. "Just ask me something else. Anything else."

"Alright," I said, leaning against the balcony. "Maybe we should talk about the elephant in the room."

"But we're outside," Kristen joked, sitting down on the stone and wrapping her shawl around her torso.

I rolled my eyes. "Guys, we need to talk about home." Kristen glanced nervously back at Faramir. Rachel simply stared at her hands in her lap. "Do you guys even want to go home?"

"Of course we do," Rachel said. "But how are we supposed to do that? And if we find a way, we may never get back."

"I thought you'd want to stay more than anyone, Claire," Kristen said. "You love these books and the movies."

"It's not what I thought it would be, you guys. I thought I'd be able to do something, make a change. But all I've done is kept my head down the entire time. I mean, look at what Rachel's been able to do. If my adventure had been anything like that, maybe I would want to stay. But I've been useless this whole time."

"Untrue," Faramir called over to us. "Very untrue, Lady Claire. You saved my life. That is hardly worth calling yourself useless."

I didn't say that I never intended to save Faramir's life. I had only done it because Gandalf wasn't able to. Not that I wanted him to die. I liked Faramir a lot. But it wasn't my place to save him.

"Claire, I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit," Rachel continued. "I mean, what's the one thing you've always wanted to do in Middle-earth?"

"Join the Fellowship?" I said.

"No, that one's too obvious. Everyone wants to join the Fellowship. You wanted to meet the Ents. You did that within minutes of getting here!"

She had a point, but so did I. "You weren't there. When Treebeard talked about the Entwives, it broke my heart. Traveling with the Ents wasn't what I thought it was going to be. This whole place isn't what I thought it was going to be. I miss my parents. I miss my pets, my brother, and our friends back at school. Don't tell me you guys forgot about the gang!"

"Of course we haven't forgotten about them!" Kristen said. "We never said we didn't want to go back home, Claire. If there were a way to travel between worlds—,"

"Wouldn't that be convenient?" I said, sarcastically.

"Guys, stop," Rachel said. "If there's one thing we can't do, it's fight about this. I say we stop arguing without actual fact to go off of."

I agreed. I hated now that we were all back together we were on the brink of a fight.

"Fine, change of subject," Kristen said, leaning towards Rachel's chair. "What's up with you and the horse-dude?"

"Ooh, good question," I said, leaning toward her myself.

Rachel shifted in her chair a bit. "I don't know, guys. It's weird."

"What did he say when you said goodbye earlier?" Kristen asked.

She shifted again. "I…I didn't say goodbye to him. Theoden stopped me before I could."

"Who?" Kristen asked.

"Eomer's uncle, the King of Rohan," I answered. "What did he say to you?"

"He said that Eomer was too confused by the situation. That he didn't need to go into battle with those feelings and I should wait until afterward to speak to him again."

"Well that was stupid. What if he doesn't make it?"

"Kristen!" I snapped.

"What? You said it yourself, you guys can't be sure of anything anymore."

"Yeah, but you still shouldn't say things like that." I turned back to Rachel. "Listen, we know you better than anyone else. You never care if people are mad at you, especially if you've done nothing wrong. You hate high-maintenance relationships. So why would you care about Eomer if you didn't, well…care?"

Rachel sighed. "You're right. I know you're right. I just…don't know what to do."

"Well, you don't have to do much. I don't even know him and I can tell he's crazy about you," Kristen said. "Listen, when he walks back through the gates, jump out of your chair, run into his arms and just lay one on him."

"Perhaps that isn't the best idea," Faramir called over. I completely forgot he was listening. "One tends to be quite overwhelmed when that happens."

"But you can't deny, it does the trick," she called back, grinning. "But he's right. That might be too impulsive."

"Just give him a hug," I said. "Let him know he's not alone. Just talk to him."

"Thanks guys," Rachel said. "I really appreciate—,"

She was cut off as the ground seemed to shake. I shot up to my feet, Kristen behind me, wheeling Rachel to the edge, facing the battle we could not see. The sky above Mordor, once black like a never-ending storm, turned to orange as what I assumed was Mt. Doom erupted after the Ring had been destroyed.

"Ah," Rachel winced. I turned to her and she was grabbing her forehead with her good hand.

"What's up?" I asked.

No sooner did she answer "My scar," when it hit me. The place that had been bleeding on my forehead when I woke up in Fanghorn Forest started to sear like it was on fire. Kristen grabbed at her own a minute later. I vaguely remember Faramir calling to us, asking if we were alright.

Then, as soon as it started, it was gone. Gingerly, I touched it and felt…nothing. Before it was slightly less than a scab. Now it was just eyebrow and skin. "What the hell?" Kristen exclaimed. I looked over at her. Her scar was gone as well, as was Rachel's.

"So…maybe it was the Ring?" Rachel asked.

I exhaled. "I'm still just as confused as before."

Above my head, I heard the whooshing of wings. Rachel seemed to tense up for a minute until she realized what they were. "The hell are those things?" Kristen asked.

"The Eagles," I said. "The Eagles are coming."

"Well, ain't that convenient," she scoffed. Rachel and I glanced at each other and laughed.

* * *

-Faramir-

The soldiers all marched back to the White City quicker than I had anticipated. In the time it took them I all but managed to grab what I needed from the vaults of the Hall of Kings. It was a lot harder to find than I had thought. My father must have buried it. When I returned from below, Kristen, Rachel, and Claire had gone. I could see the soldiers clad in colors of Gondor and Rohan alike making their way back into the city.

I ran from the apex all the way down to the first level of the city where wives embraced their husbands and fathers kissed their children. I was so unaccustomed to women wearing armor and even though that number was few, it still caught me off guard.

In the packed area, I found him, his hand being shaken by almost every soldier bearing the same symbol on their chests as he did. My still-injured body protested to the way I was thrown about in the sea of people, but I ignored it. When I reached him, I pulled him above everyone so that all could see. And I did one last thing to spite my already fallen father.

"People of Gondor!" I called to the crowd. "People of Gondor. I present you Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. A Man who fights as the bravest of us all, who would give his life for our beloved country, and who would sacrifice everything in the hope to better his people. I ask you now, do you accept him as your king?"

In thunderous applause, the ground shook as not only the Gondorians, but the Rohirim as well, cheered for Aragorn. His face held a look of pure love, the love one only feels as a king does for his country. I pulled the Crown of the King from behind my back. "My Lord Aragorn, do you accept?"

He smiled at me, taking it from my hands, holding it momentarily in his own. Then he grabbed the band and held it high in the air. And if the cheering before had been thunderous, this cheer could have sent us off the mountain.

Aragorn clapped his hand on my shoulder and I resisted the urge to wince. "As long as your line remains," he said to me. "Your family will serve as stewards to my house, Captain."

I smiled at my future king and I spotted Kristen out in the crowd. She too held a smile as big as my own. For the first time since Boromir had left Gondor for Rivendell, I knew things would be right in this world.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for reading! I know you think we're almost done (and we are) but I think you'll find i have just a bit more to say then the movies our girls are stuck it, don't worry! Just leave a review in that shiny white box while I work on the next chapter!_


	35. Rachel: Home At Last

When the Eagles passed overhead, Faramir had run into the Hall, abandoning his post. I had a faint idea as to what he was doing, but it wasn't that important now.

For the first time, I tried to stand out of my chair, and it worked for a moment as I stood at the edge of the apex's balcony to watch as the troops came into our view. Claire and Kristen walked with me slowly to the first level, where families had gathered to greet their returning warriors. It felt good to use my own feet again, even if my body felt like it would collapse.

Soon, though the gates were opened and, led by Aragorn, the troops piled into the first level. I spotted Maywen and ran into her embrace. We shared no words, only laughter as the other members of my Rohirim legion fought for my embrace. All twenty-two who had gone were here now.

Merry found me next, after Claire. I bent down and pulled my Hobbit friend into a hug. When I pulled back, his eyes were red. "What's the matter, Merry? It's over now."

"My lady, Gandalf took three of the Eagles into Mordor to find Frodo and Sam. He hasn't returned."

I looked into the sky. In the distance, three small dots flew towards the city. "Oh no? Look," I said pointing.

Merry looked and his eyes lit up. "You know it's them, don't you?" he asked, smiling. I nodded. It seemed like everyone knew our secret now.

Gimli found me next. "Well, lassie, it seems you've gotten your strength back," he said. I bent down. Though I hadn't spent much time with him, I knew, from Legolas, that he regarded me as a true friend, and it made me happy to see his bright eyes smiling at me.

"I hope you got plenty of Orcs out there," I said.

"Oh, he got more than plenty." I looked over Gimli's shoulder and Legolas was there, smiling. I stood and was hugged by the Elf. He was the first person here I trusted and the first person to think that my holding a sword wasn't a silly thing. It felt good to be held by him now. Something of a comfort to know that once, I was just a small person he had found in the Riddermark, wearing strange clothing and bleeding from the head. He put a finger on my eyebrow then. "You're wound," he exclaimed.

"Gone," I said. "For good."

He looked like he had more to say, but he was interrupted as Faramir had pulled Aragorn onto a staircase so that they towered above everyone. "People of Gondor!" Faramir called. "People of Gondor. I present you Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. A Man who fights as the bravest of us all, who would give his life for our beloved country, and who would sacrifice everything in the hope to better his people. I ask you now, do you accept him as your king?"

Though I was not Gondorian, I let out my best cry. Aragorn saw me and flashed me a smile. My hands clapped as loud as I could make them. Around me, people from both countries cheered. Faramir pulled out what could only be the silver and gold Crown of the King. "My Lord Aragorn, do you accept?"

Aragorn took the crown from Faramir. Almost hesitantly, he held it in his hands. Then, without warning, he held it into the air, his hand grasped around the headband. Even Legolas cheered this time, the entire crowd loud enough to shake the stone walls of the White City.

But my celebration was short lived. I felt a hand on my shoulder. Theoden stood there. His face was unreadable. Before the battle, we had spoken briefly. He wished me quick recovery and I wished him luck. Then he had warned me not to bother Eomer before the battle, to find him afterward. "I must speak with you," he called out over the roar of the crowd.

With difficulty, we maneuvered through the people and up to the second level, where their cheers were muted. "What is it, my lord?" I asked.

For the first time since I had met him, the King looked uncomfortable. "Gandalf has told me the truth. On the way to the Black Gate, he told me of your true background. Aragorn had told me you were a woman from Bree he had encountered. He then found you in the Riddermark many months later, lost and alone, looking for your friends. I admit now, that I was foolish to have believed his story. You speak not as if you were from Bree and women there would not be as…temperamental as you had been. But I know now that you hail from another world. A world that has allowed you to know of things before they happen, as if it were history." He paused, looking away from me and grabbing his temple.

"I hated lying," I said, only slightly worried about his response to what I had to say. "So much so that I had to come clean with Legolas and the Hornburg. The guilt of knowing what I knew and not being able to say anything weighed on my back like a boulder."

"What I cannot understand is that if you knew of Eowyn's death, but you cared for her so, why did you not try and stop it? Or did you try and were unsuccessful?"

I closed my eyes. So Gandalf hadn't told him everything. "My lord, Eowyn was not supposed to have fought in that battle." The King's eyes flashed at me, and still, I could not read his expression. "I changed what I knew to be true. You know I thought it unfair for women to be stuck below, helpless to the cause. Eowyn felt the same. I did not intend for what happened to her to occur. She was my friend." I paused to let him speak, but he said nothing. The silence killed me, so I continued. "I carried the guilt of her death for days around Edoras. Meeting Eomer, knowing what I had done, was too much. At the remembrance feast I told him the truth and that is when our fight began. He warned me not to tell you the truth, even though I was planning to do so. He worried about your reaction. So I kept it to myself."

"You worried for my reaction?" he asked. I nodded and he sighed, leaning against the wall. "I cannot deny that this information shakes me. To know that she could still be here…" he trailed off, leaving us in that uncomfortable silence again. "No doubt she would have asked to join the battle, regardless of your presence?" I nodded to his question. "Then it is still a weight on my shoulders, for I could have refused her still. No, Rachel, I do not hold you responsible for this. I know how you cared for Eowyn. Regardless of what has happened, you only did what you judged to be right."

For the first time since Eowyn's death, I felt that boulder lift off of my shoulders. My arm, still aching with Black Breath, seemed to feel stronger. There was nothing holding me back, now that I had earned Theoden's forgiveness.

"Thank you, my lord," I said, breathless.

He smiled. "That is not the only reason I have pulled you away from the festivities." He walked towards me, placing a gloved hand on my shoulder. "I plan to leave for Rohan in three days, after we speak to Aragorn about what the future holds. It would bring me great pleasure to see you named a Rider of Rohan when we return to the Mark."

My jaw dropped at his request. I didn't know what to say. I simply stared at the king, dumbfounded. He chuckled at my reaction. "Is that a yes, Lady Rachel?"

I managed to fumble out a "Yes," reply. I remembered Erkenbrand telling me that being a Rider of Rohan was the greatest achievement a warrior could make in Rohan. That Esquire or Legion Captain were but stepping stones. I couldn't believe Theoden was offering this to me.

"You still have much to learn in the ways of Calvary and swordplay," he said. "But I can't think of anyone more deserving of this title. I once told you that I thought you to be unwise. I take that back now, for you have taught me much an old man needed to know these last few…almost two months, I believe."

I smile with gratitude. "Thank you, King Theoden."

He dropped his arm from my shoulder. "I will take my leave." And he left me standing on this deserted street alone.

I thought back to what Claire said up in the apex about going home, and I knew I couldn't do that, unless there was a way for me to come back. I had done what Gandalf had suggested of me weeks ago. I had found a home.

I turned to leave the street, but there was someone waiting for me at the other end. He smiled at me, his face just as gentle as it had been when I woke from those awful nightmares that first time. The face that proved the nightmares were not real.

"Forgive me if I stare, my lady, but it is not often I find a woman in trousers."

I gave him a confused look. When I woke this morning, I found my trusty leather pants in the corner of my room and changed out of that infernal dress. "What are you talking about?" I asked him. When we met, I was in capris.

He ignored the question. "I am told we are to have a companion accompany my Riders back to Rohan in three days. A female, new to this world and in need of a home. This wouldn't happen to be you, would it, my lady?"

"Yes, it is," I answered, walking a few steps closer to him. Why was he being so formal?

He stepped closer then, closing the space between us. He bowed his head. "If you'll permit me, my name is Eomer, Son of Eomund. Third Marshall to the Riddermark and leader of the Riders of Rohan."

Suddenly, it clicked and I realized what he was trying to do. "Are you trying to impress me, Lord Eomer?" I said, playing along.

"Might I have your name?" he asked.

"Rachel Collins," I said, bowing my own head. "Though, I have no title."

He grinned. "You do not need one."

And even though I had asked to start over, even though this was supposed to be our "first meeting", I couldn't help it. I was happier then I had been since I had landed in this world. I forced my weak legs onto my tiptoes and placed my mouth on his. He was surprised, but after the initial shock, his lips kissed me back and he picked me up, bringing me closer to him then I had ever been before. I forgot of the Black Breath, of Eowyn, and home, if only for a moment as we held each other.

"Woo-hoo!" a cry sounded behind us. We broke apart and he placed me gently back on the ground, though his arms stayed wrapped around me. It was Kristen, standing with Claire. I looked up at Eomer, who was slightly embarrassed, and I laughed. Leave it to those two…

* * *

Aragorn's coronation was planned for two months ahead. I had thought he would have asked me about Arwen, as he thought her to have sailed to the Undying Lands, but he didn't. And I didn't say anything. He would still get to be surprised at his crowning.

He sat with me now, in the Houses of Healing the next morning, showing me how to wrap my own arm since I was leaving. He suspected it would be fine in less than a week.

"It pleases me to finally see you so happy," he said. "Since I had met you, you walked the earth as if you were a ghost, not to be in this world. I take it you no longer feel that way?"

I shook my head. "Rohan is my home now."

He smiled. "I am happy for you, my friend. Though, I must warn you of what I fear for Lady Claire."

"What about her?"

"She walks with the air you once did. She is happy for the war to be over. Happy that you and Lady Kristen have found solace. But I fear she feels like she doesn't belong."

I nodded. "I don't leave until the day after tomorrow. I'll talk to her. Maybe she can come with me."

"Is Lady Kristen to remain in Gondor?"

"I don't know. I would like to think she'd come to see me join the Riders."

He finished wrapping my arm. "There you are."

I gently massaged it. It was still tender, but healing. At least I could walk without using a chair anymore, even if I did have to move slowly. "You should get back to your crowd of admirers, King Elessar," I said.

He chuckled. "And you should talk to your friends. Figure out a plan before the celebrations tomorrow."

Indeed, there was to be a giant party to celebrate the victory. He left the small room and I followed. Many of the Fellowship were still in the room down the corridor, where Frodo rested. Kristen had popped in to say hi, but I still hadn't met that hero. I figured that maybe I never would. That was fine with me. I was happy to keep some part of this tale the fantasy it had once been.

* * *

I found Claire in the stables. She had made good friends with one of the barn cats that roamed around down here. She'd named him Morty.

"Hey," I said, sitting down beside her. "Have you met Frodo yet?"

She shook her head. "I expect I will at the party. What about you?"

I shook my head. We sat in silence for a moment, Morty walking between the two of us, meowing to be pet. "Claire, do you have a plan yet?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm headed to Rohan. Kristen will come with me, but then she'll come right back here, to Faramir. What about you?"

She sighed and leaned back against a wooden wall. "I thought about it all last night. I think I'm gonna go to Rivendell."

"Rivendell?" I asked, shocked. "Why Rivendell?"

"Something Aragorn said, about the Elves and their power. If anyone has the knowledge of how we got here, I figured I'd start with Elrond."

"Claire, I met Elrond. Maybe now that this is all over, he'll be more reasonable, but he wouldn't tell me anything then."

"I have to try. All I've been told since I got here was that I would have to wait for answers. Now that the war is over, I can get them."

"It's a good plan, but you don't know the way."

She grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me with that."

* * *

 _A/N: Don't forget to leave a review!_


	36. Claire: New Plans

I had absolutely nothing to wear to this party. Faramir laughed when the three of us came out dressed as we were. Kristen was wearing a purple tunic-like dress and Rachel, the white dress Ioreth had changed her into when we brought her back from Pelenor. I wore the one I stole in Rohan, light blue, made out of some kind of sack-like material. "What?" Kristen scoffed at him.

"Forgive me, but this is to be a great celebration," he said. "These are clothes you wear every day."

"It's all we have," I said, offended. Sorry I didn't have fine gowns tailored for me on the spot.

He smiled. "Come with me."

He led us up to the apex and into the vaults. The vaults lead about a mile into the mountain, like a cavern, but we didn't go far. He walked over to a wardrobe and opened it, revealing a slew of colorful fabrics. "These were my mother's," he said. "My father had not the heart to get rid of them after she died. They should suit you fine."

I was incredibly touched at his gesture. We thanked him and he left us here to change. We crawled through the wardrobe, pulling out dresses of our liking. Rachel and Kristen kept smiling at each other. One of their favorite past times was shopping together, and this is the closest we had gotten to that in two months.

In the end, Kristen chose a deep purple gown with gold embroidery throughout the skirt and fastenings. Rachel's was a dark blue with white accents down the spine and a matching belt. Mine, a simple gold one with wide sleeves that fell almost to the floor. Kristen also managed to find a box of jewelry that we used to distract from our hair. There wasn't much we could do about that without hair irons or pins.

Faramir waited for us outside, smiling. "Much better."

* * *

The party was just as I hoped it would be. With the threat of Mordor gone, the clouds had cleared from the sky, exposing the stars above the apex. The White Tree still hadn't flowered, but it no longer looked like it was dying. Strings of candle lights had been set up to illuminate the large area. Food had been set out on large platters around the edge of the walls in a buffet style. A band in the corner played music on instruments I had never seen. Faramir dragged Kristen to the dance floor almost immediately.

Legolas found Rachel and me standing awkwardly to the side and he came over, gabbing our hands and making us twirl. "Where did you find those gowns?" he said.

He too was dressed to the nines in a green velvet shirt and matching pants with black boots. "We could ask you the same thing," I said. He really did look great.

"Where is Eomer?" Rachel asked.

"I believe he was looking through some of the debris from Pelenor. I thought he would be here by now."

I nudged her in the ribs. Legolas was here now, and she could ask him for me. "Legolas," she said. "What are your plans after tonight? What will you do for two months until the coronation?"

He chuckled. "I had hoped to attend your ceremony in Rohan. No doubt it will be splendid. You are, after all, the first woman to ever be named a Rider of Rohan."

"You…you were coming?" she asked.

He looked confused. "Gimli and I were planning on it. Do you not want us to come?"

Her face lit up. "I absolutely want you to come!" she wrapped her arms around the Elf's neck. I laughed at his expression, which was confusion mixed with shock, while he patted her back. I knew Rachel was worried her friendships would fade after the war if she was to live in Rohan. It touched her to know that Legolas did not want that to happen.

She pulled away. "But afterwards, what will you and Gimli will do?"

"I suppose we'll do some traveling. Did you have something in mind?"

It was Rachel's turn to nudge me. I didn't want to ask him, since I didn't know him as well, but seeing that he had no immediate plans lifted my confidence. "I was hoping you would accompany me to Rivendell," I said. "I think Elrond may have the answers to how we got here. I have no plans for the next two months until the coronation and I don't know the way."

To my great surprise, the Elf smiled at me. "It would bring me great pleasure to accompany you, Lady Claire."

"And Gimli?"

"I am sure he would be just as honored."

Rachel gasped then as she spotted Eomer at the other end of the apex, dressed in a simple brown shirt and leather pants. Nonetheless, he looked better then I'd ever seen him. His flyaway hair was tamed and he had shaved. He had spotted Rachel and he looked dumbfounded at her regal appearance.

Legolas chuckled. "It seems someone has tamed the Horselord. I can hear his heart beat almost as fast as a sparrow's." I laughed as Rachel pulled up her skirt and walked over to him. Three songs later and Kristen and Faramir were still twirling around the floor. I let out a sigh that did not go missed by Legolas.

"May I ask what ails you?" he said. "I can sense your discourse."

"I feel like I have to keep explaining it to Rachel and Kristen, but they just don't get it."

"Perhaps we can sit and you can explain. I fear I know very little about you, my lady. If we're to be traveling companions, maybe we should remedy that."

I nodded as he led me to an empty bench. I didn't think I would want to tell anyone but my friends, but as soon as I started to explain my feelings to Legolas, I knew that I needed a third party opinion on the subject. He listened intently as I explained my situation to him. How Rachel and Kristen fit here better than I could ever hope to. How everything seemed so easy for them, even though this was _my_ dream, coming to this world. It wasn't fair.

He showed little emotion as I talked. He didn't even nod. He waited until I was finished completely before speaking at all. "When I was a small _ellon_ ," he said, at long last getting his chance to speak. "My father told me tales of places that did not exist. One, a beautiful garden haven, and another, a city in the clouds. To this day, I dream of those places that do not exist. Especially during the hardest times of the war, I would dream I could sprout wings and fly up to that city. You have been given that exact same chance and you say it isn't fair?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. "You are as not unfortunate in this, as you would believe. Rachel and Kristen have found purpose and love, but I have seen you keep your distance. Merry and Pippin adore you, yet you stay far away. I feel, my lady that if you were to find the same, these desires to fly away would leave you, if only you could let them in."

I let out a huff. "But what could I even do?"

He smiled, glad that I was open to his suggestion. "Perhaps start with your trip to Rivendell. Find the answers you seek and gain closure. Then after, since you had desired to see this world, I suggest you do just that. Explore, travel, and learn as much as you can."

"Thank you, Legolas," I said, grateful for his understanding and wisdom.

He rose from the bench then, extending his arm. "Now, if you'll permit me, Lady Claire, a dance?"

I blushed. I was a horrible dancer and a total klutz, but I took his hand anyway as he lead me onto the floor.

Rachel, Kristen, and I seemed to have danced with everyone that night, even Merry and Pippin, who had joined us later. Frodo was still not well enough to leave his chambers and Sam had chosen to keep him company. It was probably very comical, us trying to dance with the Hobbits, save Kristen, who was only about a foot taller than them. Still, I felt like royalty as I was spun around by all of these people who wanted to meet me. I was certainly calmer when dancing with Legolas or Aragorn, as I knew them, but it was still fun.

It felt like the night was over all too quickly as guests filtered back to their homes or guest quarters. While it was nice to eat good food and dance with companions, many had been lost in this war, from both countries, and everyone was still in mourning.

* * *

The next day, I managed to gather my few belongings into a rucksack and change into the riding clothes that had been given to me in Rohan. I said goodbye to the tiny room in the Healing Houses before blowing out the candle and shutting the door.

Rachel was waiting for me in the stables. She was feeding Morty small pieces of stale bread. I bent down and scratched his ears, feeling him purr. "I'm gonna miss this little guy," I said.

Rachel laughed. "Kristen will turn this place into Cat City when she finally settles in. Don't you worry."

I walked over to the stall that held Windfola and I felt guilty that I'd been ignoring her for a cat. "I think you should take her back," I said, giving her nose a pat.

"But I gave her to you. She was a gift."

"She was a re-gifted gift," I joked. "Remember, Theoden gave her to you first. I know how to ride now, Wendil gave me a few lessons. She's your horse, Rachel."

"But who will you ride?"

"She can have Errod," Aragorn said, entering the stable. "I prefer Brego, myself."

"Are you coming too?" I asked.

"Alas, I cannot. Faramir and I will be busy, for many Orcs and Goblins still roam Ithilian and our outlying cities. And we also will plan to raid Minas Morgul, to bring it back to the state it was in before the Nazgul took it over." He turned to Rachel. "It pains my heart to miss this honor that is to be bestowed upon you, my friend. So I have brought a gift." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold chain. Hanging from it was a charm, intricately designed to look like six arrows meeting at their bases, forming a six-pronged star. "It is the symbol of the Dunedain Rangers. If ever you are in need on the road and find them in your travels, show this to them, and help will come to you."

"Thank you, Aragorn," she said, taking the charm. "Even though you still haven't told me what the Dunedain are."

He smiled. "We have many conversations to come, for I often wonder at many of the things I've heard you mention. Hockey, summer camp, and…telly-vision?" he struggled to form that last one.

We all laughed. He turned next, to me. "And for you and Lady Kristen, I gift these." From under his cloak, he unsheathed two large knives, wicked sharp, yet beautiful. I took one, examining it. Its hilt was made of a fine red wood, the handle lined with leather. The blade itself was shiny and about five inches long. Kristen's was identical. "I know not their history, as I found them in the vaults. But I've named them _Limwen_ and _Eruaistaniel_ respectively."

"What do they mean? I assume it's Sindarin."

"It is. They are the translations of your names, my lady."

"Thank you, Lord Aragorn. I don't know what I've done to deserve this."

He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I look forward to your return in two months, my friend."

Friend. I was Aragorn Elessar's friend. I could get used to that.

* * *

 _A/N: I want to make it clear that Legolas and Claire will NOT become a thing. I'm a big believer in keeping the Elves as Tolkien intended. Elves falling in love with humans is rare. Like, I'm pretty sure it only happens twice in the series. Claire is a character who knows every character in the story through reading about them and watching them on screen. Maybe she could fall for someone who is a character of mine or one who was not a main focus of the story? Anyway, thanks for keeping up! Don't forget to leave a review!_


	37. Kristen and Eomer: Travels and Triumphs

-Kristen-

I was excited to travel without getting chased by a Nazgul. I was also excited to take Gordion on a trip that was longer than a few laps around the stable. I was a little nervous about leaving Faramir behind, but he assured me that I was in need of a few adventures of my own.

So, I hoisted on the new pair of riding pants Wendil had made for me. It was her goodbye gift, even though I would be returning in a week and a half.

Aragorn had left the stables by the time I had made it there. Claire gave me his gift, the dagger _Eruaistaniel_ , and I hadn't gotten to thank him. Legolas assured me there would be plenty of time when I returned since he and Faramir would be spending all of their time together.

I was not looking forward to riding three days straight on the back of my golden steed, however. But we traveled leisurely, stopping often enough and sleeping throughout the night.

While the trip was to be somewhat of a happy occasion, it was also a somber one. Though few had been lost in the Battle of the Black Gate, many Rohirim perished in the Battle of Pelenor Fields. I learned that most of them had come from outlying small cities in Rohan, and the soldiers that accompanied us back were people of Edoras, the capital of the country. Since all of the bodies had been trampled by Oliphaunts or forced to sit around for five days, none of the dead accompanied us back to Edoras, but there would be many families that grieved. I was somewhat relieved that I wouldn't have to be around that in Gondor this week and I found myself in high spirits knowing that Beregrond had survived for Wendil and Bergil.

In the evenings, Claire and I would practice with Rachel. She trained with Erkenbrand while Eomer and Legolas taught the two of us. I guess Eomer didn't want to pretend to hit Rachel with a sword. It was interesting, switching between a Man and an Elf, since the two styles were so different. At first, Claire didn't want to learn, but Legolas persuaded her, knowing she may need it on their upcoming travels. I trained because it wasn't fair that Rachel got to be the only badass of the group and I figured Faramir would get a kick out of it.

Rachel was practically glued to Eomer's hip as the two shared stories of their pasts. Claire and I had begun to tell Legolas and Gimli all about our lives back on Earth.

"You have been in education for sixteen years?" Gimli asked us one day. "And you still have another to go apiece? What could you possibly have left to learn after all that time?"

"Well, after the first thirteen, you change to a different system called college or university where you focus on one particular area of study," Claire explained.

"And what do you two study?" he asked.

"I study history education," Claire said.

"I'm mathematics." I said.

"And what of Lady Rachel?"

"She's creative writing." I thanked God none of us were something different, like film or broadcasting. Then we'd be explaining new concepts of technology to the dwarf all day.

"Fascinating. You spend four whole years learning just mathematics. Here I've lived my entire life only needing to add or subtract."

I laughed. "It can get a bit more complicated than that."

The trip continued to be just that pleasant until we arrived in Edoras. I have to say, I much preferred Minas Tirith.

The land looked to be pretty barren, save for the large crops that grew out in the distance. Small houses and buildings lined the area below the giant hill in the center. On it stood a massive building that could only be Meduseld, made out of mostly wood and some stone. On its roof sat yellow straw that appeared to glow when the sun hit it just right, and I understood why they called it the Golden Hall. I noticed Rachel smile as we strode through the small city and I understood immediately why she loved this place. Its little cabin-like houses and large fields reminded me of her summer camp. I would always visit her on her birthday, which was over the summer, so I knew how closely it resembled this small city.

We were greeted by smiling faces of children, elders, and some women who had stayed behind, not wanting to join the fight. I noticed Rachel's friend Maywen jump off of her horse and run to a preteen boy, pulling him into her arms.

Some children couldn't find their fathers. I didn't want to think about it.

I followed King Theoden up the hill where we all dismounted. Our horses were taken to the barns by a few of the riders. I stuck with Claire as we were ushered inside.

I don't know what I was expecting, but the inside was a pretty big letdown. It was basically just a long, somewhat narrow room for its size. At the other end was a simple throne. On the walls were intricate tapestries with different depictions of Men and their horses.

"As my guests," Theoden said, walking over to me and Claire. "You can stay here, in the Golden Hall. I'm afraid absence from the war has left us slightly staff-less. I hope you ladies can manage on your own?"

He was asking if we needed hand maidens. It took everything I had not to laugh out loud. I'd managed twenty-one years without one. I was sure I could survive four days.

"Come with me," Eomer said, leading us down the hall and behind a tapestry. It was a small corridor with multiple rooms. "The stairs lead down to the kitchens and servant's quarters. But down here are some guest rooms." He opened a door that lead into a large room with two beds. It looked like Claire and I would be sharing. "I hope you'll be comfortable?"

"Oh, we'll be fine," Claire said. "I'm just happy to actually get a room this time."

"Yeah, thanks Eomer," I said. He struck me as a stern man, but one who was capable of great feeling. Clearly, he set many emotions aside, but that was good for Rachel. He held her arm now, not in a protective manner. He seemed to just want to be close to her.

They left us in the room. I assumed Rachel was taken to a permanent room, since she'd be living here. "Dibs on the bath!" Claire said, pulling her blue cloak off her back and walking behind the separator off to the side of the room.

"I'll never get used to baths being in the bedroom," I said, sitting on one of the beds and pulling off my boots.

"Baths are nothing. I'll never get used to piss pots."

I thought she was joking, but sure enough, there was a small copper pot under my bed. I missed Gondor. There, the latrines were public, but the height of the mountain allowed for an aqueduct and plumbing system.

"What do you think the ceremony will be like?" I asked.

I heard the pumping of water. "I spoke to Theoden last night. It's not usually a big deal, but he's planning on decreeing a law that makes basic defense skills necessary for both genders, allowing girls, when they get older, to join his armies. Rachel doesn't know. He wants to surprise her."

"She really got the better end of the stick in this journey, didn't she?" I said.

"You jealous?"

"Maybe. Aren't you?"

"I'm not really a weapons type of girl. I don't know if I could do what she did at the Hornburg or Pelenor, but I don't think I'm jealous of it."

"But you are jealous?" Claire was an open book. It was never hard for me to read her tone of voice or her expressions.

"Well she…I mean, both of you…you just seem to have everything figured out. I just seems so easy for you."

"It is easy," I agreed. "Only, it wasn't at first. I mean, how could it have been? I had no clue where I was or what was going on. You and Rachel were nowhere to be found. I was stuck in a cave, getting questioned by Faramir, not knowing the answers. And that stupid Ring…"

"What was that like?" she asked. "The Ring?"

I thought long and hard about my answer. I had visited Frodo before the party. I wanted to see for myself that he was fine. And he was, on a certain level. On the other, that Ring had seriously messed with him. "I felt like I had to have it," I said. "Whenever I saw it, I wanted it. And it seemed like Frodo didn't. And if he didn't want it, then why couldn't I have it? I didn't know what I could do with it, but I knew it was powerful and I thought I could…I don't know…keep it safe."

I heard the plug getting pulled from the tub drain. "That's pretty much how I imagined it would be," Claire said, coming out from behind the separator wearing a towel.

"Claire?" I said, fingering the place where my scar had been. "If the Ring did bring us here…how could you get home without it?"

She started running a comb through her hair. "That's exactly what I'm going to ask Elrond."

We both ignored the part where I said "you" and not "we".

* * *

The next day, we didn't see Rachel at all. The few times we managed to run into Eomer, he was busy with something, but he told us she had been at the smithy all night and would have to stay there this morning. They were building her custom-made Rohirim armor. Eomer wouldn't tell us what he was up to.

So, Claire showed me around the city, which took about half an hour total. There really wasn't much to see that I couldn't make out from my window in Meduseld. We ended up killing a bit of time in the kitchens, helping prepare some of the food for the feast tonight. It was to double as a memorial service to the soldiers that had been lost from Edoras. So, while I would be celebrating, most of the city would be collecting a compensation out of a free meal. That was a bit depressing.

After I burnt a batch of bread, the cooks politely told Claire and me that our help really wasn't needed. There was also some excuse about being the King's guests and he wouldn't approve. That left one thing…

Legolas and the archery range. I had a pretty good time with that and had managed to get quite a few shots into the red center circle at fifty paces.

"Why do you fight with a bow, Legolas?" I asked him. "Why not your long swords?"

He smiled, sliding his hand down his intricately designed bow. "Most of my kin do fight with long swords, it's true. But I have always preferred the bow, my lady. It always came more naturally to me than the sword, though I can be just as aggressive with either weapon."

He had also insisted that Claire learn some of the Elvish language, Sindarin, before traveling to one of their kingdoms. And since I had nothing better to do, I joined in. By the time the sun had started to fade, we could hold a basic conversation.

" _Mae g'ovannen_ ," I greeted.

" _Mae l'ovannen_ ," Claire would respond. " _Goheno nin, u-bedin edhellen annen_."

" _Agoreg vae_."

And we continued like that for about two hours out in the grass with our Elf friend. Gimli stopped by towards the end. He had come to tell us that the ceremony would start in about an hour, so Claire and I made our way back to Meduseld to get dressed.

* * *

 _Mae g'ovannen_ \- well met

 _Goheno nin u-bedin edhellen annen_ \- I am sorry, I do not speak Sindarin well.

 _Agore vae bedin_ \- You are speaking fine

* * *

-Eomer-

Never in my life did I think I would find this person. I remember being very young and spying on my mother and Eowyn in my sister's chambers of Meduseld. Theodwyn told her that she would grow up to find a man who would love her, not just for her beauty or grace, but for her stubbornness and nerve as well. Theodwyn had never given me a talk like that, but I took her words to mean that when I found the woman I loved, that I was obligated to love all parts of her, even the ones that could be construed as negative.

I knew now that it was not obligation. I loved that she was reckless. I loved that she was blunt. Most of all, I loved how she never gave up on what she stood for. And made my country better for it.

Rachel stood clad in new armor with a new sword at her hip as Theoden declared to the people that she was to join my ranks. And when he announced that all women of Rohan would have the opportunity to rise in rank as she had, I saw something in her look at Theoden I had never seen her give him. It was a look of admiration. But more than that, it was a look of love.

I heard many women mutter about the new decree throughout the hall, but it was too jumbled and quiet to make out anything individually.

"More than this new declaration," Theoden continued. "Many lives have been lost to this bloody war. Husbands, wives, fathers, and mothers. Blood of Rohan valiantly spilled to a glorious victory. Tonight, as we had one month ago, we remember them. Our brothers and sisters."

Rachel made her way back to the crowd. I thought she was walking to me, but instead, she went out the door as a toast was made. I placed my goblet on the table and followed her.

She knew I was behind her, but she didn't stop for me to catch up. She led me down the hill and to the east. We walked for a few minutes before we reached the giant stone door of the tombs.

"I wish she was here," she whispered, speaking of Eowyn. "I wish she could have been a part of this."

"Truly she would have basked in this glory."

"All she ever wanted was to be free from a cage. Here we've gone and locked her in another one."

I grabbed her gloved hand with my bare one. She leaned into me, resting her head on my chest and I breathed in the scent of her hair. The smell of clean grass and fresh flowers I knew not the name of. "We cannot grieve her forever, my love," I said.

"Everyone in Middle-earth grieves for their dead tonight. She is the one I lost. And I have little to distract me from it."

"Perhaps a gift?" I said. I had been working on it vigorously since our time of rest in Gondor. I took great care in hiding it from her on the three-day journey back.

"You got me a present?" she said, her head jerking up in surprise.

I smiled, pulling her back up the hill. "It is at the smithy," I said.

She frowned. "I spent all day in the smithy. How did you hide it?"

"You knew not to look for it. So I hid it in plain sight."

I grinned at her confused expression as we reached the workshop. I had never been excellent at masonry, far from my greatest skill. I led her inside and pulled the silver piece from its hiding place behind a spare breastplate.

"You made me a helmet," she said, taking it from my hands and fingering the intricate designs on the side. That had not been my work, rather the help of one of our masons. They depicted her figure on the back of a bucking horse, her fingers gripping the hilt of a sword. It was the way I had seen her at the Battle of the Hornburg. The day I fell in love with her, though neither of us knew it then.

Her fingers ran through the chestnut plume of the helmet at the top. "From Theybrush's mane," I said. "He was your friend and the only family you had in this world for a while. I thought his presence would bring you luck."

Suddenly, her arms were around my neck and her lips were upon mine. I felt the chainmail on her arms dig into my shoulders, but I didn't care. "No one in this world is luckier than I am tonight," she whispered, breaking the kiss only to say that. And then her lips returned.

I thanked the Valar we were not interrupted this time.

* * *

A/N: _Bit of a crap chapter, but there you have it. Sorry I've been gone for a week. College life can get you like. Anyway, send a review. Any suggestions on what you want to see between now and when the last ship sails to Aman would be welcome! I can most definitely fit them in if they work with my story._

 _In my spare time i have been writing an M-rated fanfic on the life of Rachel and Eomer. It is some smut, but a lot of fun. And sad. Any takers?_

 _i will shut up now._


	38. Claire and Kristen: The End

-Claire-

"You're sure you don't need anything else?" Rachel asked for the sixth time. "Bread or cheese? Do you have any bandages in case of an emergency?"

"Calm down, Mom," I teased her. Errod was as packed as I could get him. If Rachel tried to force anything else on us, he wouldn't be able to move.

"She's right, lass," Gimli chortled, snuffing his pipe. "The lady has enough provisions to get us to Rivendell. Ha! She has enough to get her across the great sea!"

"Oh, ha, ha," Rachel said to him, clearly pestered as Kristen let out a guffaw. Rachel turned back to me. "You'll be back before the coronation?"

"That's the plan," I said. With the best luck in Arda, I'd be back with answers from Elrond well before my two-month deadline.

"We really shouldn't delay any longer, _mellon_ ," Legolas said. "I had hoped to leave an hour ago."

"Don't be hasty, Master Elf," Gimli said. "Last they separated, Rachel was found on the brink of death."

I shuddered involuntarily as Kristen snapped, "Don't remind us."

"Are you ready, Claire?" Legolas asked, ignoring the Dwarf.

 _As ready as I'll ever be_ , I thought to myself. I placed my foot gingerly in Errod's stirrup and mounted him, ready for our two week journey.

Rachel gave my knee a pat. "We'll see you soon," she said.

"Take care of those Wildmen," I said. I turned to Kristen. "This coronation better be good."

"Oh, it will be epic," she said, her eyes shining with possibility.

"Take care of her," Rachel said to Legolas as he helped Gimli mount their horse, Hasselfeld.

The Elf smiled. "You need not worry about Lady Claire. She will be safe with us."

And with that, Legolas mounted his horse and we took off into the morning mist of the Riddermark.

* * *

Rachel had nothing to worry about. It was two weeks of boring. When we stopped for camp, Legolas would train me to use my knife or teach me a bit more Sindarin. In fact, had I not had to sleep on the ground, the trip would have flown by. It was pleasant traveling with Gimli and Legolas.

It was when we reached the outer walls of Rivendell, I was nervous for the first time on this trip. "Fear not, _mellon_ ," Legolas said to me. "I sense your distress, but it is misplaced. Lord Elrond is stern, but kind."

From behind the gate, two Elves, looking almost identical, came over to us. "What business brings you to Imladris, Legolas Greenleaf?" the one on the right asked.

"It has been almost a year since we'd last had the pleasure of your presence," said the one on the left.

Gimli huffed. Obviously, he didn't like being ignored by the twin Elves. Legolas dismounted Hasselfeld, but kept a hand on the reins to keep him steady for Gimli's benefit. "My companion, the Lady Claire Elliott, seeks council with your father," he said. Now I could place the twins. Elladan and Elrohir, the sons of Elrond, though I couldn't tell the difference between the two.

"Really?" the twin to the right said. "Father has been saying he expects a human visitor. Do you think her to be the one, Elladan?" he asked. Now I had a name to each face.

"Perhaps," Elladan said.

The twins shared a look. "We shall bring you to Elrond," Elrohir said. "Dismount your beasts. We will have them taken to the stables."

I hopped off Errod, giving him a pat on the nose. I led him into the gate and gasped at what I saw.

Rivendell was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Everywhere, lovely plants grew around every structure visible to the eye. Statues were strewn across the plains and the buildings of the city seemed mounted into the cliffside, somewhat like Minas Tirith, but more breathtaking than imposing.

"I had the same look on my face when I first arrived," Gimli mumbled up to me. "My father had told me it was the one great beauty of the Elves he had seen in his long life."

I could only nod in response, I was so awestruck.

Our horses were taken by two Elves dressed in blue. My companions and I followed the twins into the city and up into its structures, forcing me to leave the pleasant gardens all too soon. Through a few staircases and two intricately carved wooden doors we were lead through until we were outside a third. Elladan knocked.

I heard no response, but Elladan opened the door anyway, motioning for me to enter. And there the Elf-lord stood. Legolas had told me there was no need to be nervous, but that was really all I could feel now as this Elf's eyebrows arched as he looked at me.

"Claire Elliott," he said.

I tried to think of a response other than "Lord Elrond". It seemed rude. " _Mae g'ovannan_ ," I greeted.

The Elf lord smiled. "Legolas has been teaching you Sindarin?" he asked.

"Only a few common phrases, my lord, to help pass the time on our travels."

He turned to my companions. "I must admit, I am surprised to see you returned to my halls, Master Gimli."

"Were it not for the girl, I would not be here," he huffed. I rolled my eyes. As much as he had warmed to Legolas, there was no fixing his opinions on all other Elves.

"I wonder, if you would give us some privacy?" Elrond said.

"Of course, my lord," Legolas said, giving me an encouraging smile before grabbing Gimli's cloak and pulling him out. Elladan shut the door behind them. Here I go.

The Elf-lord chuckled a bit. "You have nothing to fear from me, Claire Elliott," he said, sitting in one of his chairs. He motioned for me to sit in the one across from him. "I wonder why you are nervous at all."

"I'm worried that I wasted a trip," I said, crossing my legs. "That you won't have the answers my friends and I seek."

"All you can do is ask, and hope for the best."

"I want to know how I got here, to Middle-earth. How my friends got here, as well."

"You want to know how you arrived here, but not how to return home?" he inquired.

I grinned. "One thing at a time."

He leaned back in his chair, giving me a small smile. "Do you know of my gift?"

"Foresight," I said. "You can see the future."

His smile wavered slightly. "Alas, it is more complicated than that. As decisions are made, different results flash before my eyes. It is—rather was—fueled by this." He held up his right hand. A blue ring sat around his index finger.

"Vilya," I said. "The Ring of Air. One of three forged in secret by Celebrimor after the knowledge of ring-crafting was taught to him by Sauron. After he crafted the One Ring."

He dropped his hand. "You are well taught, Lady Claire. Vilya is the source of my power. But since the destruction of the One Ring, it has all but lost its power. The three Elven Rings have all lost their power."

"And now the havens will diminish," I said.

"Indeed, child. We will sail to the West when we feel it is right." He paused. "That is how you return home."

"What?" I asked, confused. "I have to sail to the Undying Lands?"

"It is not an honor Elves grant so easily. But it is through the help of the Valar you return to your home. The Lady Galadriel and I grant it to you and your companions Rachel Collins and Kristen Logan."

"But you still haven't answered my initial question. How did we get here in the first place?"

"The Ring of Power was always trying to get back to his master," Elrond explained. "It is my understanding that when you viewed it from your world with the desire to be a part of its story, it brought you here, to aid it in its cause."

"So…it was the Ring?"

"Partially. You cannot deny the pull you and your friends have to this realm. I believe most of the magic came from your very cores."

"That's why the Nazgul tried to take us?" I asked. "Why Saruman tried to contain me and bring me to Sauron?"

"It is my understanding that Saruman of Many Colors, for all of his wisdom of spells and enchantments, did not understand the magic of desire. He knew, from his master, that three had been brought to Middle-earth. Neither he, nor his master understood your purpose. With three new faces to his battle, he planned to use you to turn the situation in his favor. He couldn't have known how adamantly you would side with the Free Peoples."

"So Gandalf was wrong then?"

"Even amongst the wisest of Middle-earth, there is magic yet to be understood." The Elf-lord rose from his chair. "I hope I have given you the answers you seek. I could not tell Rachel Collins when I encountered her in Dunharrow. I know now that I had tampered with fate, warning her to stay away from the battle. I did not wish her to suffer the curse of Black Breath. I must thank the Valar she did not heed my advice."

I nodded, rising from my chair. "Thank you, Lord Elrond, for your generosity."

He smiled. "It goes further still. Two weeks on the road can be taxing. Take rest here from your travels, as long as you desire. My children and I will leave for the coronation in four weeks. You may stay and accompany us, if you would like."

"I'll have to talk to Legolas and Gimli, but I can't deny I'm dying to see more of your city."

"You are always welcome here, Claire Elliott," the old Elf smiled at me.

* * *

-Kristen-

The morning of the coronations arrived, yet Claire had not returned. Rachel was attempting to do something with my hair as we sat in borrowed chambers in Minas Tirith. "What if she doesn't make it?"

"She'll make it, dude. I told you, she probably decided to stay with Elrond's family and accompany them here."

"Here I thought you were the mother hen."

She chuckled, adding a silver circlet around my brow. "Stop worrying about Claire and take a look at my masterpiece!"

I turned to the mirror. She really had done a nice job. I was dressed in an elaborate light blue dress. Rachel had worn a simple red dress fashioned for her back in Rohan. The fashion there was much more basic than gowns of Gondor. She also dawned a circlet, hers of gold.

We walked out of my bedchamber and took the back way to the apex of Minas Tirith. Already, what seemed like thousands of people had gathered on the green grass. The White Tree bloomed with new flowers and swayed gently to the breeze. I stood beside Faramir, very near the front. He had agreed to remain Steward of Gondor, but only when his presence was required. And so, Aragorn had made him master and Prince of Ithilian. He and I were moving there within the month to oversee the reconstruction of the damaged city.

Rachel, naturally, stood beside Eomer. Like Faramir and I, they had recently entered courtship. I had insisted on calling it dating, but it wasn't catching on.

I tried to find Claire, but the crowds were much too vast. Instead, Gandalf stood at the dais of the Hall of Kings, as Aragorn came outside, dressed in full armor. What shocked me most after he had taken up time in court was how clean he could get.

Gimli held the crown that Aragorn has hoisted into the air after the end of the war on a small green pillow. Aragorn knelt before Gandalf as the Wizard took hold of the crown and placed it on his head. "Now come the days of the King," he called to the crowd.

Aragorn stood and faced the crowd. Everyone cheered loud for the new king. "This day does not belong to one Man, but to all," he said to us. "Let us together rebuild this world, so that we may share in it the days of peace."

Flower petals fell from the sky as Aragorn took to the crowd. He smiled at men and Faramir as we bowed, then to Rachel and Eomer.

And then, a group of Elves approached him, carrying multiple banners. Amongst them was a tuft of blonde hair I knew all too well. She winked at me as Legolas approached Aragorn. Suddenly, Aragorn moved toward Claire's group and his eyes fell on a gorgeous she-Elf. Dammit, I couldn't remember her name, but I definitely remembered her face from the first movie. Her identity was confirmed as Aragorn pulled her into his arms and lay a kiss right on her lips.

Again, the kingdom cheered as Aragorn led the Elf on his arm further into the crowd. Then he stopped in front of four small figures. "My friends," he said, softly, but loud enough for the crowd to hear. "You bow to no one."

Rachel, Claire, and I pretty much lost it after that. In this swell of happiness and sisterhood, we stood, our arms around each other. For the first time in a long time, we we all safe and happy. And we bowed before our Hobbit friends, entering a new place with hope for the future. A future that lay ahead full of adventure and new possibilities.

* * *

 _A/N: I know it says "The End" but have no fear my amazing, loyal readers! For there is an epilogue to come!_

 _In other news, I received no response on my M-rated "sequel" that focuses on the lives of Eomer and Rachel. Trust me, when you read the epilogue, you'll want some answers._

 _So, as always, leave those stunning reviews of yours and let me know what you think. Thanks for sticking it out with me for this long. You guys are the bestest readers I could ask for!_


	39. Rachel: Epilogue

Since I was the one who began this journey, I think it fit to tell you of the ending.

Long lives Kristen and I led after the coronation of King Elessar, who remained my good friend until my departure from that world.

While not always happy, the paths we chose in the end turned out to be the right ones. And it was upon this realization that Kristen and I felt our time in Middle-earth, much like Claire's, had been well spent.

It had been years since I had ridden on the back of a horse. Kristen even more. Our frail bodies, wrinkled and pained with their years of experience, could endure it no more. Elessar, granted with long life as a Dunedain descendent of Numenor, was far from spent in his life as we were. And it was he who drove our carriage to the shores of the Grey Havens where we had said goodbye to Claire, so many years ago when she had departed with the Last Ship.

With our husbands long gone from this world and our children now great rulers, Kristen and I had little left in this world but impending death of old age and fading minds.

No words were spoken by my old Ranger friend, whose wrinkles and grey hair were here after his many years. Soon, he would feel his body grow old like ours had.

Elessar helped us both into the tiny boat on the dock of Mithlond. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. After so many years of feeling my body give way to age, there was a new spark of life as Elessar sent us into the Gulf of Lune.

I know not how long we sailed, nor if we ever reached our destination. I simply remember my wrinkled hand grabbing hold of my friend's as my eyes closed shut…

" _What can you see, on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, a place moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home…_ "

My eyes jolted open at the vaguely familiar song. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. It was so dark, save the bright rectangular light in front of me. I blinked away the brightness and allowed my eyes to focus. It was a…television. By the Valar, I had not seen a television since…

"Rachel?" I turned. Claire sat beside me, a blanket over her legs. We were on a carpeted floor. Kristen sat between us, only just waking and sitting up slowly.

"We're back?" Kristen said. There was confusion in her voice.

I pulled my hands from the floor below me, flexing my fingers. They were so strong again, not a wrinkle on them.

On my left hand, however, something had changed. A ring with a blue stone sat upon my index finger. Though I had only lay eyes on this ring twice, I knew it to be the Ring of Air, Vilya, kept guarded by Lord Elrond. The Ring that told of the future, but only to those who were brave and wise enough to use the knowledge for good. Just like I had.

Claire had discovered a ring on her finger as well. Narya, the red Ring of Fire sat on her finger. A Ring with the power to resist all forms of tyranny, domination, and despair. Claire had been the first to leave, and not by choice. Her choice to treat the passage of Valinor as a blessing instead of a curse was why she had been gifted this.

Kristen held the White Ring, Nenya, that held power of preservation and protection, as Kristen had done to her city of Ithilian for many years.

We stared at our gifts in shock for what could have been hours. Outside the window to the apartment we shared, the sun was starting to rise. And in this moment of reunion, we began our lives anew, for that was the true gift the Valar had given us.

They had given us each other.

* * *

 _A/N: And there you have it, dear readers. Go to my profile to find the "sequel" Awakening to figure out all the answers to your questions. Cause I bet you've got 'em after that! Even if you don't continue, though, thank you for reading this bit of nonsense. Seriously, you guys rock._


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